


Subterraean overgrowth

by avaloncat555



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Hellenistic Religion & Lore, Hymn to Demeter - Homer, Original Work
Genre: Agender Character, Dead People, Deities, Demeter is not to be messed with, Family, Fate & Destiny, Friends to Lovers, Genderfluid Character, Ghosts, Gods, Gods...are more like sentient elemental forces constantly shapeshifting, Hades is good creepy lover, Hera too but she is willing to do something about that, Kidnapping, Kinda, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Other, Persephone is queen, Retelling, Romance, Sibling Love, Sort Of, Soulmates, Underworld, Zeus and Hestia are tired of everybody's stupidity and need break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-20 10:46:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11919276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avaloncat555/pseuds/avaloncat555
Summary: Retelling of Hades and Persephone's love and marriage: how they met, how they married, and how world reacted.It is lonely being god, sometimes more than usual. Whether you are Lord of one on three great realms, or treasured child of one of most powerful goddesses.two unlikely souls find each other, and it shakes world.





	1. As it blooms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redlipstickkisses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipstickkisses/gifts).



> Gift for redlipstickkisses, who is an amazing friend. Thank you for everything.  
> This is retelling of Hades and Persephone's myth. It was great challenge for me, as I generally don''t do retellings of myths, and generally don't touch any religion in such way, and it was hard to write personalities and vulnerabilities while remaining sense of power for gods. Also I had to keep myself from putting in all possible epithets for gods.  
> So, first off, about nature of gods: I don't really see gods as physical beings, or simply super-powered immortal humans. I see them as something more, higher powers bound to nature itself, guardians, keepers and masters of universe, with intelligence and understanding beyond our comprehension, whose true form would break us (as it happened to poor poor Semele). As such, their physical appearance and gender are just matter of customization.
> 
> Second, some details about behavior of gods. Capital pronouns are sued for six siblings and twelve Olympians, as many religious people do for all gods, to signify they are above others. I also put it in that gods do not speak as men do, and that their true language consists of translating feelings and events to each other's mind, and that when they started using language their first names for each other were more like descriptions of their nature.
> 
> Third, about behavior of gods. As somebody who more or less grew up on mythology, briefly dabbled in hellenic polytheism before my beliefs drastically changed (I'm agnostic now) and researched lot of theology and history, my view of them is bit more conservative and influenced by their cultus in Greek culture. As such, I love each of gods, and like Ancient Greeks don't cast any of gods (Olympian gods and most of protogenoi and Titans at least) in antagonistic or evil roles. Unlike most of popular media (which tends to make Hades in Devil expy) or some modern stories I mostly see on internet (which mostly bash gods writer doesn't like, which tend to be Zeus, Hera, Poseidon and Apollo in my experience). And I understand where those people are coming from, but I believe (even if I am not follower or their faith or believe in their existence) that each god, despite their flaws and dangers, is complex, multifaced entity deserving respect and possessing positive qualities that heavily outweight all of humans, and who care for and defend their followers and do their duty (also, fun trivia: did you know that Zeus, Hera, Apollo, Hestia and Hecate were some of most important god in day to day life, due to their status as household gods).
> 
> More in end notes.

There are not many things gods need to  fear.

They do not need to sleep, or eat, nor can any weapon or creature slay them, for they are immortal, undying and everlasting. But just because something isn't needed doesn't mean it isn't loved. They lay down to sleep, because even for them, dreams are sometimes more pleasurable than reality. They eat ambrosia and drink nectar because they love to feel their holy taste. They avoid fights and enemies, because even if they can survive it, being torn to pieces isn't exactly pleasurable.

That is why they fear loneliness. It won't kill them, but make them scorn life. Life that is eternal and unending, life from which there is no escape.

* * *

 

God of Underworld sits on Their black throne, raised above dead and spirits that swore Them loyalty, Their kingdom stretching from Pit to Blessed Fields, and all riches hidden beneath Mother Earth's skin are Theirs.

They are raised above all, lord and master and one with Their domain, and none, mortal or deity, may approach Them except in direst need. And who would dare, to go below Earth, into darkness and dust, in silence and loss, and to climb stairs of dark marble, to stand before Lord of Dead, great and dark and terrible, One whose power dwarfs that of men and gods equally, Who rules third of world, One of six siblings that threw down previous masters of Universe, They who keep Titans imprisoned, whose kingdom is most feared and always growing?

And They long for more.

It hasn't been long ago-barely several thousand years- since They and their siblings were released from Their father's insides, and They are grateful for freedom, but sometimes can't help but think it came at too harsh price.

Childish thought-They are all grown and world needs managing, but yet They miss time when Their siblings were all together.

Not the last, youngest, spared one. There is respect for King of Gods,  and fondness for one who is their savior, but Their sixth sibling never quite fit in, and none of Them could truly see Them as their kin and close friend (except for the First, and two of them played merry chase for centuries, and They are surprised it took even so long, but in the end the First became queen of gods as They were bound to be).

It isn't Sixth's fault-bond between five siblings is stronger than even ordinary one, forged during aeons of their captivity inside Their father, raising and guarding each other.

But now They are grown and have scattered over universe to bring it order, and don't see each other so often, and sometimes, god of Underworld misses Their captivity.

So They sit on their throne, and watch souls pass and pass, shrinking from Their gaze.

 

* * *

 

She is sweet and gentle, young and new and treasured, and her mother will do anything to protect her, Her precious dear daughter, spring treading with her footsteps, to seed things that will be reaped in autumn.

Her old, weathered mother, Her hands holding golden scythe that cut apart Father Sky and clothed in forest and fields green mantle, mother who was in war and then came back to make things grow, mistress of growth and harvest, presiding over both spring and autumn, beginning and end, goddess of bounty.

(Her father is distant but lovely. She feels peaceful under open sky, and air caresses her skin, and thunder makes her laugh, and she knows He will keep safe. Even from His wife.

Her aunt-stepmother is more powerful than Her older sister, and She is true queen, grandness and beauty and entrance that brings silence, and She is amazing even if Her mother rolls eyes at "theatrics" as she ploughs continents).

Her mother loves her, and keeps her safe, but lands her daughter walks are never unwatched, and her few friends are caretakers too, and mother chases away any possible suitor.

It both hurts and does not. She seeks no suitor yet, has not felt her soul sing and scream in presence of one Moirae have bound her to like they did with her father and his aunt-stepmother, and all who see her see only sweetness and beauty and innocence, while they are old and powerful and ruling.

And yet, it is her mother’s choice, for it is She who drives them away and She who tells them no, and She is one who keeps her home, and her daughter feels suspicion that it will continue even when she is old and mature, even when she is older than oldest forests.

Before they had names and epithets and domains, but after Sixth taught them words and ways to communicate with speech and letter, hands and symbols, mind and feelings, they named themselves after numbers, five of them.

* * *

 

The First was actually third born. But First They were  They because so They made Themselves. Bright plans, bringing order inside Their father's being, anger like like endless thunderstorm-rumbling and cold and flashing and shocking, painful and scorching when it finally hits.

The Second were eldest, mother and father to rest. Gentle care, advices and rebukes equally handed out, anger like  hearth fire and coal, small but growing and smothering.

The Third were actually second born. All worry and work to make something better, anger slow but choking  like thorny vine wrapped around heart, dripping venom.

They were the Fourth, truly in fact. The shady and subtle, one who watched for new food arriving, anger explosive and boiling like magma.

The Fifth was youngest. The fastest, one who destroyed things that could harm them, fury sudden and waning like waves.

They spent most of time arguing, and running, and not accomplishing much, but They miss Their family.

* * *

 

There are many who come, gods and goddesses and demigods and daimones and satyrs and nymphs, who come and seek her hand in marriage, to be bound before her white armed aunt stepmother in eternity (gods are not made for fidelity, just as rain cannot fall on single flower, but often they choose favourite companion, to whom they return in the end). Too many to count, but some stand out, three of her siblings, sired by her father ( it isn’t so strange for gods, creatures of power and purpose, to marry family, as it is for men, not when each of them is related in some way through Protogenoi) , all of them members of Twelve.

First is the Messenger, son of eldest of Pleiades, the trickster of swiftest foot, the friend of men who invented so many things, rich in domains. He is cunning, and smooth talker, and friendly, but He is too fond of tricks and underhanded schemes, as mercurial as wind, and she knows she would need to constantly to be on guard with him.

Second is Two- Formed, Twice- Born, Wine-maker, whose history is secret but for fact that He has been torn apart and reborn in her father ( is He son of mortal princess foolish enough to gaze at true form of King of Gods, or is he her mother’s son, torn apart by Titans). He is one that stands in between, and almost as young as she is,  sensual and clothed solely in leopard skin,  of beauty and body that resembles that of woman despite being male, god of foreigners, of lowly madness and  great mysteries, lord of ecstasy, yet He is too enthusiastic, too wild and energetic and exhausting for her to join Him.

Third is Shining, son of Titaness that aligned herself with Olympians, the stunning god with many domains, who brings plague and heals, with perfect voice and great wisdom and foresight above any else, master of light and prophecy, most high and esteemed, other half of twin-archers (with His wild, bloodied sister who would hunt down any who harmed Him, as would He do same for Her) and she refuses Him (He is lord of truth, and truth He sees and speaks, and His eyes can strip all she is and know everything she hides).

She doesn’t know what she wants, but even without her mother, until day her soul sings and grasps thread of fate that will lead her to her other half, her consort she will have no other.

Sometimes (more often than not) she hopes she will be one to find them.

 

* * *

 

She is in her forest, forest she planted and tended when she was very very young until it grew tall and beautiful, wide trunks and thick dark green leaves, thousands of trees growing over centuries, laying down on grass which turns crisp green and produces dozens of poppies in her presence, in clearing where trees grow in circle, clearing her mother made when she complained that she couldn’t watch her father’s sky.

And there is presence, alien one, a god intruding on her fields and forests. They are  long and wide, power as deep as gaping abyss, impenetrable as deepest darkness, as enduring as diamond. She feels and sees Them, laying in shadows like their lord, dark colours human eye cannot see, shapes and angles only gods can comprehend.

"Who is there? Show yourself." Her voice is thistle blowing in wind, flower opening and grass growing, song of birds and waking of bears as she stares with her fresh berry eyes in shadows.

"Perhaps you should beware of making demands of strangers." Voice comes, sleepy whisper, final breath, dust falling and nails scratching glass, metal ringing against stone.

She isn't as scared as her mother would like. Her voice is slightly lazy, and she is bursting with curiosity.

"Maybe I will, once I know what is intruding on my game." Entity is still raw and unclothed in mortal form, and Their divine majesty lays waste to plants and bugs, turning them to ash,  but she feel Their curiosity and confusion pierce her as she stares in depths of Their essence.

"Game? You are just laying around." Woman forms in shadows, deity wreathing itself in simple human form, Her skin like jewels, hard and polished, switching from jade over onyx to lapis lazuli as light reflects on it, eyes grey like crushed bones, hair dark as shadow, robes colourless and muted like horde of ghosts.

Her aura imposes on world, causing remaining grass and trees to bend and crack, animals to flee and sun to dim as girl- deity laying on grass feels her mouth fill up with dust, and were there any mortals near they would fall down in worship and horror upon sight of Her, and though power is pressing on her like grave dust she smiles.

"Watching clouds. One of my favourites. You never did that?" Every single creature, from smallest microbe to greatest od must have once looked at something simple and given it shape with it’s mind, made connection between cloud and sheep.

"No-yes-how is that game?" Voice cries out like battle cry of carrion birds, shattering of bronze sword, mining of amethyst, wail of ghost.

"I watch clouds, and guess their shapes." Young goddess smiles, her skin soft and veiny like petals, shifting from colour of pea over rare wildflowers to rich and young clay.

"Shapes?" Thin, dark eyelashes flutter, and Her sapphire-quartz face looks impossibly soft.

"What they look like." The young goddess looks up to her, and world is washed in scents of blooming fragrant flowers, and ashes turn in fertilizers as leaves rain down and trees grow back.

"Nothing. They are just clouds." Her shadow is unstable, growing and lessening, changing shape from woman to beast to some impossible elder things.

"Are you sure?" The woman lays on patch of grass girl pats for Her after few seconds of consideration.

 ''I see nothing.'' Nothing out of ordinary, at least. Just Sixth’s white clouds, guided by nephelai.

''You aren't trying hard enough.'' She doesn’t remember last time somebody spoke this brazen and disrespectfully to Her.

''They are just clouds.'' Things are what they are, and that is it. Why waste time on imagining them being something else?

''Then You have no imagination whatsoever.'' And that is true-gods like Her don’t have much use for it (imagination is for younger ones, like this child next to her, or ones like First and Sixth, who have to care for and tidy up entire world)-even if it is said so disrespectfully.

''...Likely possibility.'' But if She wanted respect, she would have revealed herself.

''Well then You will have to develop it.''

''I don't think I can.''

''I will then have enough imagination for both of us.  Or make You grow one.''

 

* * *

 

She walked down her dark, dead kingdom, rivers of Underworld sending boat with Feryyman  to carry her, dead bowing as minor deities scuttle and greet their Lord, Lord of host, of many, of wealth, of dead.

One goddess waited by Her black throne, each of six hands holding torch, three heads grinning and turned to different directions. Her skin was as pale as chalk, her hair and eyes red as blood, her clothes black as onyx and woven with enchantments, small ghosts wrapped around her wrists and necks. Her skin glowed with subtle firefly glow, and her hands and body were painted with crossroads and ways to divine future by means of dead. 

''Greetings, My Lord! Greetings, King of dead! Greetings, master of Underworld! What miracle has brought that smile on your face?'' She was deity of crossroads, guide of ghosts, patron of witchcraft, goddess of necromancy.

As such she was Her servant, and She was her liege, and as such had no right to address Fourth (She always thought of herself as Fourth, no matter how many titles and names mortals and small daemons gave her. It felt right, and familiar), but Fourth let it pass on account of witch-goddess (she had already chosen preferable and common form, but was waiting for right name to come by to use) being one of Fourth's  few almost friends, mostly because they shared same sense of humour most often described as ''dark'', ''morbid'',  ''what the f-'' or in First's case ''Do you want me to skin you alive?''.

Not to mention that witch-goddess was extremely valuable one of few psychopomps beside Her nephew Messenger who could stand working with so many ghosts, one of Titans who rebelled and joined cause of Olympians and had permit to freely travel over earth, underworld, sky and below sea ( permit she earned by becoming friendly with King, and Fourth knew that having Sixth's friends among his court gave Her even more protection that She could expect usually).

''It is nothing.'' She said as she sat down, watching procession of lamenting deceased waiting before Lethe, Her face hard and cold as gems it resembled.

''Now come on, what got You in such nice mood? And wearing such fleshy form....'' Three pairs of deadly white lips parted to reveal bony teeth. ''Your Lordship didn't happen to meet  _somebody_ , did They?''

''As if.'' Fourth's frown deepened.  Lover, with which they would join in eternity, bound together by Moirae. She didn't have time for those things, and given First and Sixth were apparently bonded in such way... Well, She wanted nothing like that in Her life, even if there was one god waiting for Her out there.

And they certainly weren't Third's beloved daughter anyway. And it was not as if She would leave Underworld again in next twenty centuries. Or even if She did, She certainly wouldn’t go to that same forest.

Goddess of crossroad smirked thrice, watching fond little smile on Her face as She watched wailing dead on bank of Styx.

 

* * *

 

''What do you think of parties?'' Child asked Them. Today he was short, stocky man with thick thighs and curly hair like chestnuts, skin colour of fresh grass and eyes like wheat seeds and  skin like ripe strawberries. In contrast to him They were in form of black, thin ram.

''People don't invite me to them very often.'' Most gods were uncomfortable around them, even children of Night, and to mortals They were most feared and hated god.

''Oh. I'm sorry.'' This sweet, innocent boy, Their nephew-friend. So kind and friendly. If only he knew.

''When they do, I do my best to ruin it for everybody.'' Honesty was least They owed him. And it is not as if They are ashamed of their petty cruelty, anymore than Sixth is ashamed of lust or Fifth of impulsive anger or any other god of their flaws.

''Why?'' It isn't really possible for boars to shrug, but this was only fraction of god wearing skin of boar, which meant that anatomy and physics had no business meddling with it.

''It is fun.'' And it was, in many different forms. Sometimes it came in form of  morbid joke that silenced entire feast, or making souls wait for century at shores of Styx if they didn’t pay the Ferryman (it was just long enough to make panicked souls think they were going to be stuck there forever, only for Ferryman to return and take them deeper in Underworld. Minutes, centuries, where is difference?).

''Well that is really rude and I may not want to be your friend anymore.'' Boy pouted and crossed his arms, and all flowers turned away from Them, and They wanted to laugh as They asked question.

''Don't you mean cruel?'' Then boar blinked (impulse They picked up from boy and nymphs following him, all so fond in appearing in human skin). ''We are friends?'' _We may not be anymore_ , panic drove through them

''Nah, rude. Cruel is is all right-it's when you maim or curse somebody, and gods are entitled to that once every few centuries. Rude is rude. And we are friends, at least to me. To you?'' He held out hand and let butterfly fly down on it

''I-of course.'' He wanted them to be friends? _Why_ would anybody want to be that to Them? Then bunch of petals hit Them in snout.

''You know, that brooding really doesn't make you attractive at all.'' And boy laughed, and sparrows flew overhead as trees blossomed. ''Now come on, let's play hunt.'' Wildflowers grew where he run.

 

* * *

 

''How should I call you?'' Fourth asked. It was hard to remember that most beings used words in this age, or at least communicated their intentions by thought. Fourth's friend barely looks like humans they favour( though in fact that form was based on one invented by Titans, and chosen by shapers of mankind as their form by virtue of having opposable thumbs). It has head and torso and four limbs, but it is made of milky crystal and sharp emeralds.

''I don't know.'' Names are something new, something They haven’t yet adopted- They are used to impressions, emotions and images of Their essence and purpose, and using words to describe Themselves is something new and rare for Them, even when They are using titles.

''Tell me, please.'' Fourth's friend asks, voice echoing in Fourth's mind, sweet like cherries and apples.

''Why have you chosen that form for today?'' Fourth themselves is nothing but giant, though thin line of darkness.

''You are evading my question with another.'' As small stems grow on trees in whole forest Fourth knows Their friend isn't displeased.

''Answer it, and I shall answer you too.'' Truth is, they don’t know. Fourth-or better said, idea, concept of being Fourth one is something reserved for siblings, and if they said any of their titles their friend/family would immediately flee.

''Well, you often come to me in form of jewels, so I wished to try it.'' Great shade crosses over Fourth's friend, one that saved lives in desert and afforded naps in hot and shining springs,  and yet jewelled body sparkles and shines.

''I wouldn't think you would like it. Don't you prefer organic forms? Minerals are so different.'' Petals fall like rain and autumn leaves turn green again as Fourth's friend comes closer.

''Just because two things are so different doesn't mean they aren't both beautiful.'' Nuts litter ground as they speak.

 '' And that was more questions. You won't get rid of me so easily. It's only fair-after all you know how to call me.'' Nuts crack and seeds grow in small stems.

''I do.'' Third calls Her child Sweeter-Than-Spring, New-Life-Blossoming, All-Things-Growing. Her child prefers name mortals made up, Kore.

 ''Nobody calls me by name.'' They never asked for, and nobody dared to offer.

''Really?'' Voice is soft, softer than breeze, softer than petals. Sun shines slightly less and grass is shorter. Kore leans in shadow.

''Would you like me to give you name?'' It seems that time stops, offer simple yet so unique.

''Yes.'' It takes all Fourth has not to burst and bury world beneath ash. Still leaves turn gold and silver and fertile soil is unearthed.

''What do you think about..Haides?'' The Lord of dead takes human form, tall with bronze skin and black beard, colourless beards over His strong body as he hugs Kore.

''Yes. Haides is perfect.'' He kisses Kore's forehead. Diamond forms there.

 

* * *

 

''You aren't in love, no?'' Newly self-proclaimed Hecate asks, three voices crawling like spiders over His metal skin. He doesn’t even shudder, his face grim and brooding, narrowed eyes staring down at shivering dead traveling to Lethe for blessing of forgetting.

''We are simply acquaintances.'' Hecate hums, individual sound three times weaker than usual so that result wouldn’t be too off-putting.

''And you took name Kore gave You and wear it like your own, and named entire underworld by it. Just acquaintances.'' His gaze is piercing and painful as spear, but Hecate barely flinches. Fact that He started  wearing human form more often, using names and language and carved flowers on bloodied spires of His palace since He started going out once a human week is enough proof for her.

 

* * *

 

'' No offense, My dear, but I fail to see why You are calling on Me from all possible people you could ask for help.'' The Second-Hestia, firstborn and last released, hearth keeper, key holder of Olympus, She before whom no door can be barred, Lady of temples and palaces. Hers were hearths that were centres of homes, cities, of Earth herself, Hers was fire everlasting.

 ''Because You always help with everything?'' Hestia's face, young and old at same time curled in smile, and Her coal eyes sparked as Her robes of flames grew stronger and her ash-skin shined with internal luminescence, and entire Underworld felt warm and loving and  _home._

''That is kind of You, but as You are aware, I have no experience nor inclination in this branch of personal desires.'' One didn't swear to eternal virginity and celibacy if they did.

''Why don't you ask somebody else? Somebody whose domains includes love and attraction.'' Where there is fire, and home, and people, Hestia can walk, and not even Hecate or Hermes can hold candle to her.

''I don't think I'm such failure that I need help of love gods.'' Especially since that would include dealing with Aphrodite, main goddess of love, beauty and desire, to whom all other swore loyalty and service. Aphrodite, who walked up to Olympus nude and out of nowhere, smelling like something between Titan and Protogenoi, all beauty of universe contained and reinforced within Her, like when jewel was polished and cut, and demanded throne of Her own. Aphrodite whom Sixth called child and First didn't complain. Aphrodite with strange eyes and stranger powers that bound them all.

''Well, there is no shame in that. But if you want true help you won't find it with me. Perhaps you should visit our brother King?'' Hestia couldn't have been serious.

''Why?'' Sixth had better things to do than to solve Haides’s pathetic love problems, than to deal with brother that scorned getting to know Him at all chances, especially when matter was that of His daughter.

''For better or worse, He is most experienced and successful in arts of love.'' Haides couldn't be sure about that. He didn't think Sixth understood much of love, if He was willing to cheat on First.

But then, He didn't think there was god willing to put up with marriage to First for one measly decade, much less eternity.

''You think He will help?'' At least He was less dangerous than Third

''Of Course. He is our brother.'' Even if He wasn't imprisoned with Us.

'' He cares, in His way. Try just to ask and give chance.'' Hestia's smile could have convinced Chaos Itself.

 

* * *

 

''What are you doing here?'' The First asks, Queen of Her domain, standing before Him, silver and golden and bronze, curved swords in Her hands, last and greatest guardian of Her husband's chambers.

''Greetings to you, First.'' He is great and mighty as mountains, and even among humans She may be be short and small, but He knows better than not to bow.

''I am Queen Hera. That childish nickname doesn’t apply anymore.’’ Fools dare ask why they should fear Her, goddess of marriage, motherhood and family. They forget that all gods are family, and all fall under Her dominion, for She is one of their matriachs, and forget that no matter what She is the Queen, and they all must serve Her.

''Of course. How could I have forgotten.''  _Everything changes._ She has better, grander goals now than just remaining sane while trapped inside their mad father. Like making sure humans and deities alike live as best as possible.

''What do You want?'' Hera has always been dignified, almost unapproachable, utterly unflappable, yet always elegant and calm- when They were released from Their. However, They were family, and knew each other far too long for Her to be patient with them.

''I need to speak with King.'' He went directly to Olympus after mulling some time on decision, instead of sending messenger requesting audience as it was proper, which surely didn’t help with Hera’s mood.

''What for? And why didn’t you send message, as you were supposed to.’’ It was hard not to practice nepotism when most of people one knew were related to you in one way or another, but Hera managed somehow.

''That is private, I'm afraid.'' Were Hera to know His reason, She would throw him off peak of Mount Olympus before He could blink.

''What you need to tell Him you can tell Me. King is tired and I won't let You in unless it is matter of utmost importance.'' There is vibration in air, crack of white-blue electricity on doors, and after moment Hera sighs.

''Very well. He will see you in. Even if He should **rest**.'' She throws venomous look at doors and Haides could swear by river Styx that he saw door and electricity shiver.

 

* * *

 

It is cold inside, cold like dead stone from bottom of ocean  and empty sky without air. Haides walks through blue halls, paths blue as heavens, marble pillars white as stars and clouds, His brother swirl of clouds containing lighting in centre.

''Brother.'' Sixth speaks, voice cold and even, not shouting but audible. Clouds lessen and form outline of man with thunder blue eyes.

''King Zeus. I have come to ask for your advice.'' He surely wouldn't appreciate being called Sixth. He was last born but eldest of them all, never swallowed and never consumed. grown and tutored while they waited and survived.

''What would you need advice for? I would think you too wise for it.'' Is it compliment or insult?  With Sixth you can never tell.

They stand like that. Sixth is tall, but not as tall as Haides. Haides is dark, and terrible and amazing, whereas Sixth is pale and beautiful and awe-worthy. Haides is full of energy, anticipation, every emotion twisting on his face, while Sixth is still, unmoving, stoic.

''... Love. I want to...talk to somebody. Maybe propose.'' Husband needs to talk with parents first anyway, and Sixth it is less dangerous than Demeter. He supposes if she accepts, Kore will just need to talk with Rhea.

''Ah.'' Sixth is more like Rhea then rest of Them even if  they all contain traces of her. Too quiet and patient and cunning for Haides liking, child of Cronus as rest of them. Maybe that is why Rhea choose Zeus to save.

 He is only one to whom Mother Gaia didn't give gift, but let him take Ouranos, Father Sky, her son and husband whom She hates. Haides has jewels and metal, Hestia magma and ash, Demeter plants and fertile soil, Poseidon sand and earthquakes, Hera has Her golden apples and garden. But it is Zeus who Hears Her voice alone, Zeus whom Mother Gaia raised to destroy her Titan son.

‘’What do you need?’’ He asks, voice like wind and rain and thunder, looming and caressing Haides, and He sees two eyes stare at him, electric blue jewels as pure as sky.

‘’What?’’ Where is fight, where is ridicule, where is _I saved You and You never came to Me of Your own will, and when others dragged You did Your best to be as morbid and unfriendly as possible?_

‘’What kind of advice do you need?’’ Sixth asks, endlessly patient, unmoving and as peaceful as sunny spring morning, and even Haides feels His glory pierce him, feels need to bow before his King and Lord,  who is above all deities, only one of gods and Titans strong enough to face even Protogenoi , only one to whom Moirae themselves speak.

‘’You mean that. You will help me.’’ Haides quietly asks, staring at His brother, finding no trace of nervous, wrecked and stammering youth that He saw when He walked out of His father’s being, small and soft like those weak, puffy clouds, boy who was supposed to be their savior but did nothing but worry and overthink ( _and yet, that child poisoned Cronus and cut him apart and retrieved Them all-perhaps He shouldn’t be so surprised. Perhaps He should ask: did  boy grow into King, or did boy and his simple, innocent, selfish dreams die so King could be born_ )

‘’Of course. You asked, and we are here for that.’’ Family, He knows that is what His brother thinks but doesn’t dare say, just as Sixth feels his gratitude.

‘’There is, this person I know, we have been friends for.. well it is just seven hundred years, but each moment spent with Them is fantastic, filling me with joy, and perfect. And I think she might be one.’’ His cruel and dangerous visage is gone, and like young, young mortal child He bares His heart and soul to His brother, brothers though He was spared, brother that grew while they were consumed, but still brother.

‘’She sounds amazing.’’ If only Sixth knew.

‘’She is. More than I can describe.’’ But He can, with feelings and love and joy that pours out of Him, so strong that He feels that they could drown whole world.

‘’I want to tell that to her. Maybe propose.’’ And He is repeating himself, but He doesn’t care.

‘’But she doesn’t know who I am. What I am. And I don’t know if, if she will...’’ Most feared and hated by humans, avoided and mistrusted by gods.

‘’When You are ready.’’’ Sixth speaks, and His lips quiver in smile ad Haides watches.

 ‘’When You are ready, be as open and honest as You are now. If it takes time, or You have problems with letting it out, don’t worry, but You must say it at end. Do not stop and do not lie. If you used another name, apologize.’’ Has Sixth ever needed to do so? Or has He always stated who and what He was?

‘’But what if...’’ She was beautiful, sweet and smart goddess of spring and growth, all soft and pretty living things. Faced with Him, greatest god of all things dark and dead, how could she react?

‘’You have Your kingdom and subjects, Your duty and purpose that is just as important as any other. You keep dead and harm none, and I doubt You have been altering your personality around you.  From what You have shown me of her, she would understand.’’ yes she would, because Kore is most perfect and sweet and kind and wise person he knows, of course but...

‘’If You aren’t sure, show Yourself to her, all positive aspects of your role. Comforting shade and beautiful gems, wealth of Earth and well-cared for dead, libations to ancestors and Elysium Fields . Perhaps even offer to show her Underworld. Hecate tells me your palace has become even grander than before.’’ That...that sounded as good idea. Though, He wondered what else Hecate told Him.

‘’And then, let it go on, friendship continuing as it was. Wait some time, for revelation to settle and become normalcy. Then confess to her. tell her what You love about her, what You treasured, things that attracted You and that make her special. As for proposal... Something creative, something unusual that is combination of your and her interests. Something with spectacle, that will make her laugh.’’ Rest will He have to come up on His own, but that is all right by Him. After all, it will have to be His proposal.

‘’Thank You. Thank You. Thank You,... brother.’’ Something strange Haides can’t really describe flashes through Sixth’s eyes, quick like lighting, and then it is gone as He turns his back and walks up to sky.

‘’Perhaps you should go now to prepare. And leave before Hera throws you out.’’ There is note of exhaustion in His voice, and Haides feels His joy and passion, brighter and warmer than stars, wash over him at mention of  Hera’s name, and small part of Him asks _what did He think would happen once Titanomachy is  over, what did He dream of being aside from Gaia’s soldier and Rhea’s vengeance?_

‘’Haides.’’ Voice is still calm, still even, but Haides feels spark of happiness and humour brush his soul.

‘’Yes?’’ He isn’t sure what to expect, what more be said-well, a lot of it, but He isn’t sure if He could bear talking about it now.

‘’I’m sure Kore would be delighted to have you as husband.’’ And as Haides is left to stare in shock, His brother is gone with flash of lighting and smile on his cloud-face.

* * *

 

As Haides’s chariot rode down, beneath ground and life and light, as he stared in Kore’s narrowed green eyes, He for some reason started to think that He had made some slight mistake.

Three pairs of eyes blinked at vines that were choking Underworld.

''I doubt that by asking her to visit You Zeus considered kidnapping her and dragging her down to Your palace without word.’’

''Shut up and free Me from those thorns.''


	2. As it grows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kidnapping goddess is hard to do, and never turns out well, even when you are kidnapper.  
> Still, world has seen stranger ways for couple to get together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Second chapter!  
> Lasts scene is inspired by conversation I had with redlipstickkisses/owlgirl1998 on tumbrl. An amazing and dear friend to whom this story is dedicated. Sorry for wait and shortness of this chapter.  
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it, please comment.

The goddess’s palace stands on Earth.

Now, where exactly, that is tricky question. It may be secluded an eternity away, or may be just few  more steps far from your home. It may be on hill or field, in savannah or jungle. It may contain all plants and herbs of world, or none any humans has ever heard of. Where there is life and plants and harvest, Her palace resides, caught between world of matter and ideas.

‘’Mother, I’m going out. See you later!’’ Kore calls, body covered in feathers and seeds as she runs out with her nymph attendants.

‘’Take care my dear, have fun.’’ Demeter calls out after Her daughter, seated on Her golden throne, steps touching ground but head reaching up to Olympus, wreath of poppy and corn upon Her hair golden like rye, looking beyond highest mountains, overseeing  development of all that grows and feeds,  smile upon Her face as Her daughter runs.

* * *

 

They are nymphs. They are to gods what grain of sand is to mountains. Some are born from  pure nature,  formed from forests and rivers, while others are daughters of minor gods. They dance, and sing, and fight, and live free and careless, happy to follow and serve gods.

They are sweet, and nice, and loyal, but sometimes Kore needs rest and understanding they lack, something more than endless song and dance. They understand that, and respect her decisions, and let her lay alone in woods, picking flowers on her own. They understand that, and defy her mother, leaving her alone.

There is poppy, and  rose, and orchid, and sunflower, and wisteria, and there is her favorite, the narcissus (she never expected to like it so much, for she knew and loved Echo, but it was most beautiful flower in her eyes), and she reaches and plucks it from ground.

In days to come, people would argue and tell story differently. Was there hint, was something felt? Was sky dark as moonless night despite it being not even noon, did horrible stench hang in air. Were trees pale and dry? But person Kore would become would say this: she was alone, she played, bent down , plucked flower.

And then earth cracked.

* * *

 

Ground shook and split, great rift rapturing across earth, and with sound like thunder blue sky became black as ink and old blood. Fast as light, from crack flew a chariot of iron and bronze, ornamented with malachite and diamonds, rot-black horse daimones  pulling it, their voices like screams of desperate, dying children.

And in chariot stood a dark figure, all edges and angles that would have fractured mortal mind in pieces, grand and horrible as only greatest of gods can be, radiating pure power that darkened sky and wood. They have not cast away their guise and took true divine form that would have laid waste unto land with it’s grandness, but they were close, unsullied might and domain bursting under seemingly mortal skin. Like pieces of pain and ecstasy torn and stitched together, They stood, and stared at Kore.

Power rolls off Them in waves, crushing and breaking even Kore, bringing her down, sprayed on earth, threatening to turn her into dust and rend her apart, as swirling chaos of emotions consumes her head, too raw and powerful to be expressed in something like human language.

Need, desire, want, strong and loud, such that it becomes her own makes her bring herself up and step in chariot, dazed as if in dream while looking at old, deep eyes. Witch crack of whip and scream of horses, chariot pulls down, down, down, and they are gone, and she can only watch as earth pieces back together, leaving no trace of her passing but plucked narcissus.

* * *

 

World is much more complicated than people think. Full of layers and mirages and realms laying between spaces. Were human to dig and dig and dig, even with great machines they will develop in ten thousand years, they would find only dirt and maybe magma if they are (un)lucky enough.

And that is why humans are humans and gods are gods.

Gods know how to steer chariots across time and space, how to pull themselves below one layer of existence to another, how to tear part and stich together fabric of reality, to slip in being and idea, and into world where spirit is as solid as stone.

Chariot drives and drives through pockets of creation, to another realm with sky of gleaming black stone, dead realm that never lived, driving past danger and loss and screaming spirits, through great columns of fire and mist and dirt, through ice and thunder, over blessed Elysium Fields and deep, deep Tartarus  Pit.

Kore feels fear travel through her entire essence, feels terror and loathing that make her still as statue, but deep in core of her being she feels pride searing with scream, and anger boiling hot, and power gathering, ready to lash out, and she turns towards Them with scorching green eyes, because she is yet a minor goddess but she is daughter of her parents and destined for greatness, and as she turns dead world alive and growing she won’t stand for this.

_‘’How dare you?’’_

* * *

 

Kore runs. She runs and runs and runs, fueled by mixture of fear and grief and anger and stubbornness, runs past dead and daimones, out in empty, barren territories of Underworld with their not-quite spaces and really not right angles. Runs up path that is somewhere between left, right and above southeast but also goes down but she still runs up.

She runs, through dust and darkness, runs avoiding palaces and dead and rivers and swamps, runs through lost dreams and dead hopes, runs through loops of time and  semi-solid mirages. She is goddess, and she doesn’t tire, but she stops, stops once fury and terror and surprise wear off, and thinks: shall I spend eternity running?

She is in void so empty that there isn’t even darkness, in place where only gods can survive, and she thinks of her mother saying _Anything can be made to be better_ and her father saying _When you are disadvantaged, do not despair but change it_ and she thinks of her aunt-stepmother, cool and unstoppable queen and she thinks _As if I’m going to listen, as if this will stop me, even greatest can fall_ and she stops running but walks, slow and confident, ready to explore what Underworld has to throw at her.

There are dandelions growing in void behind her.

* * *

 

Humans often debate which animal is fiercest, and whether humans are sturdiest being on Earth. Is it bear, or wolf, or eagle, and how are they greater but lesser than humans. But they are all wrong- animals and humans aren’t  greatest mortal creatures on Earth.

That title belongs solely to plants.

Plants grow. Where there is earth and water and light, they feed and grow, covering all that stands in front of them. They know not fear or pain, but simply grow and feed, adapting to everything, heights and sea and fire, never stopping, never wavering.

Underworld has no light or food for plants to feed of.  But divine power, shaped in semblance of plants?

It doesn’t burn, or need  light or water, nor can it be cut. Gods of plants, in sense.

But it adapts. It feeds. It grows.

And it wars.

* * *

 

‘’Left wing is still overtaken by kudzu, but we have managed to free Charon’s boat of mint and tulips. Dionysus is sending His attendants to help with grapevine  infestation. Cerberus is still having problems with willows. Tartarus experiences no difficulty.’’ The pale, bloodied Lampade speaks, her madness-inducing torch raised high, not flinching at His dark glare, waiting while He nods before leaving.

Haides wasn’t sure nymphs would be useful additions- Hecate’s ego was already quite large without Zeus Himself sending her personal attendants- but they proved to be excellent at navigating Underworld and in these times, when fast communication was of utmost importance, that was valued trait (in human world, gods could teleport, but in Underworld it was much harder.

‘’Who would have guessed,’’ spoke Hecate, approaching His throne, untangling leaves and berries from hairs with all six of her arms, ‘’that something like this would have happened. Perhaps you should return her before she brings down the whole palace.’’

* * *

 

This land is dark, and dead, and not good for growing, but Kore wouldn’t be deity if they let that stop them.

They let their power drive free deep, deep below ground, and watch as Underworld turns green.

They still can’t go back to their fields and forests, not yet, but till then they will have to make do with what they have.

There are nooks and crannies in Underworld, empty and void of any soul, but with time and effort, they can be made in gardens and palaces.

One who conquered Underworld. Yes, that will be nice title.

 

* * *

 

There is power in fear, but there is power in mercy too.

There are thousands of lost souls unable to pay fee of passage, traveling through banks of Styx. Lost, desperate souls that died in war or wood, died alone or were born in poor families that couldn’t put coin in mouth, doomed to wait on cold, cold banks of Styx, until their souls turn faint and frail.

And there, they see her. Beautiful but not terrible, bright and soft, innocently smiling, full of life they left and lost and forgot, spring following in her footsteps, and they think _Who needs to wait for judgement when Elysium is here?_

Let Them watch, as she takes Their subjects for her own.

* * *

 

‘’ Our lord, Kore is taking souls from bank, promising them peace.’’ Thanatos speaks, faint and see-through and so, so quiet,  bathing room in endless, beautiful, eternal,  unsoiled peace with voice that can make mother put her newborn in grave instead of cradle.

‘’Shall we take action?’’ Keres speak, Thanatos’s sibling, Night-born too, who might be one goddess or thousand daimones, bloodied and screaming, violent end which makes men fear death, people torn by beasts and slaughtered in war and drowned in storms reflected in her blood-thirsty eyes.

‘’No.’’ Haides speaks, iron wings spread wide, diamonds head reflecting unlight, and She wonders how she manages to keep Her voice steady.

Thanatos and Keres bow, for She is their lord and master, and children of night have no feud with Olympians as long as they are given deserving respect. Haides doesn’t lash out at them, for She is just, and She knows that Nyx, a protogenoi and only of gods strong enough to challenge Zeus would come at her children’s defense (though she would be wary, for Haides is grandson of Gaia, the ever steady foundation of all, the eldest of eldest, first to arise from Chaos and most calculating of them all, and Night knows better than to seek feud against Mother Earth).

Left alone on Her throne, Haides thinks and plans.

* * *

 

Kore’s reputation grows, as does Haides’s  refusal to fight her, and that is seen as weakness and fear, and so smaller daimones and nymphs abandon their posts and join lady Kore(for even gods have hierarchies, and when some are tired of trying to earn promotion, they join new ones).

Haides waits, and plans.

‘’Hecate. I have job for you.’’

* * *

 

Hecate stands before sequoia tree that surpasses mountains, and watches gate of wines part to let enormous snake pass, scales like leaves and eyes like rotten, giant fruit.

Hecate is old, and wise, and powerful, and she has fought against Titans, and Kore is minor deity, and yet as she looks upon enormous snake, and feels power treading through world, like seeds waiting to burst, she remembers: _This child is daughter of two of six greatest Olympians, and beloved by another, and Moirae wouldn’t seclude greatness and power way from one like her._

‘’I know you.’’ Snake speaks, in voice like breaking of ancient wood and movement of leaves on wind.

‘’You are Their servant and friend, my father’s friend and follower. You are loyal. Loyal forever. Do you think I would be fooled, that you want to join me?’’ And Hecate knows this is just a child, just minor deity of spring, yet feels power tearing at her like thorns, feels it clinging like vines, and shakes her head.

‘’You are my father’s friend, and so I shall let you go now. But tell Them not try these tricks anymore. If They want to talk, let them come.’’ Snake turns and goes back into its caves.

‘’Of course, if you want to befriend me, you are free to come whenever you can.’’ And despite being defeated Hecate smirks.

_Oh, its going to be fun eternity for us all._

* * *

 

‘’I suppose you will be going?’’

‘’I suppose you will accept offer?’’

There is no need for answer.

* * *

 

The vines are strong, and godly power in them resists Him, and He knows that with little effort He could tear them apart, but He doesn’t.  He waits. And waits. And waits.

Finally He understands why humans claim a week is so long.

And after seven days, gates finally open to let Kore pass, a brilliant vision of petals and gems.

What He did was wrong, and stupid, and He can find no words to apologize, so he doesn’t even try, but let her read His mind and heart and decide for themselves.

They laugh, and it is like flower opening in morning.

‘’Do you know that I actually like it here?’’ They ask, and He sees another bare region of Underworld turn green and bright.

‘’No.’’ He answers, staring at beauty they brought to His world. ‘’I didn’t know you had it in you.’’ He says, as He stares on kingdom they carved out for herself, and feels their cruelty and desire for power consume Him.

‘’I’m a god. I was born to rule. Just because I choose to be kind and merciful doesn’t mean I want something else.’’ Once again they smile, and their form is that of enormous crystal statue, clear with blooming flowers trapped inside. ‘’Of course, acting sweet and innocent makes You all drop Your guard.’’ And here, Haides breaks in laughter, laughter that shakes both dead and alive alike, dead falling to their knees and living convulsing in their dreams.

‘’And want to know something funny more?’’ They ask, and come near His ear. ‘’I knew who you were whole time. And I think I would like you to be my husband.’’

* * *

 

In depths of Underworld, in palace they bring in existence together, they join.

They cast off their fragile forms, their pathetic guises, and reveal their divine faces to each other. Bright, and beautiful, and great, and horrible, they arise from bottom of Underworld to its high, high ceilings, shedding all of their  masks and pretenses, revealing themselves for what they truly are.

They are gods. They are immortal, and powerful, and they rule, kind and cruel and just and dangerous. Universe is theirs to command, theirs to guide, theirs to protect. They are children of Sky and Earth, their origin being Chaos, but they are ones bringing order.  They are friends, and lovers, and family, and partners, and confidants, and two sides of same power.

They lay their minds and hearts and secrets bare, reveal themselves to each other bare, each flaw and virtue and dream and duty. They show all of themselves, full kaleidoscope of power and purpose and nature-for they are gods, and they have hundred aspects and thousand personalities, and cannot be contained by something simple as mundane, physical vessel , nor be comprehended by something as tiny as human mind, nor understood by something as alien and uncaring as knowledge of a Protogenoi.

As Underworld bows, and Moirae tie them together for eternity and more, for moment they become one.

* * *

 

Kore is first to take form, clothing even greater power and barely putting it in humanoid guise: tall and gaunt like bone or willow, skin dark and lively as Earth itself, robes dark and washed out like souls of Underworld, eyes dead and full of flowers, iron crown growing from her head.

‘’I am Kore, goddess of spring, daughter of Demeter, one of leaders of Olympians,  child of Zeus,  greatest of Gods and our King.’’ She says, smiling as fragrance of flowers fills air of Underworld and plants stop their siege.

‘’I am wife of Haides whom I named, Queen of dead, Lady of Underworld.’’ She says, and fragrance turns to smell of rot as final breaths fill sky, as all becomes dark and iron thorns grow on plants.

‘’I am Persephone, born and destined for greatness, and I shall rule with glory and mercy as is my duty and right.’’ She says, and Underworld cheers before Her.

* * *

 

Persephone walks, and dead part to let Her pass, and rivers of Underworld send boats to carry Her, and throw themselves wide to let Her enter and bar way after Her, and Cerberus whines and rolls at Her feet.

Persephone walks, and ghosts stare and wait after Her, and her steps turn Elysium fields brighter and more beautiful, and Tartarus grips harder and punishments turn more painful with Her passing.

She reaches deep, deep below in very foundations of Underworld, that part of Mother Gaia They are alloted to rule, and She grips realm of dead and departed harder, and it fights but She is stronger and She grips it and makes it Her domain and it finally, finally _bows_ to Her.

* * *

 

‘’Come in, my sweet.’’ For only moment She is startled, for voice sounds so much like Demter’s preferred when She is in human form, but then it changes in voices of billions upon billions other mortal and divine mothers, and Persephone goes to face her grandmother and mother-in-law.

Rhea waits in shadows of room, shape vague and formless, void containing echoes of all mothers of past and future, and Persephone goes to ask for hand of Her husband, from mother He distrusts and avoids, for there are rules and there are Rules, and only one of those can be broken.

She walks in, smiling and relaxed, but strong as iron and unrusting as gold, powerful like Her mother and head held high as Hera herself, unmoving as Earth, and stares at Rhea and challenegs her to deny Her Haides’s hand.

And Rhea answers.

Persephone is blown off, cast down, down, down,  and She is again she, she is small and weak and young and untested, and she is full of dreams and hopes and wants, and she is tiny and powerless but it doesn’t matter because she is safe, safe, safe in bosom of Rhea, the Great Mother, Mother of Gods, who is soft like clay and stern like stone, patient and loving and stronger and seeing her every flaw, and her gaze strips her down and takes everything raw and ugly and reveals it and her memory wanes as she is...she is...

Kore-Persephone-Queen grips and holds and she is She, She is great and survivor and made Her own kingdom and destined to rule as Haides’s side like mistress of dead, the ever growing kingdom, and She rises and makes Herself mirror and stares back and looks at Rhea and breaks her.

And rhea is perfect mother, and she is atoning for her guilt, for her mistakes, and she is tiny, wispy girl, even weaker than Kore, raised in darkness of Gaia’s bowels, and she has only her siblings until Gaia spoke to them to free themselves and harm Sky their father and only Cronus listened, and she was free and queen and everything was perfect and then Cronus went mad and he took their children and gobbled them up one by one while she was thrown on floor, unable to do anything, betraying them and herself and all mothers of world, and she was weak and useless and failure and...and...

And she was old and weary and patient and cold, and she watched coldly as her family waged war against each other, and she said nothing as her siblings were thrown to bottom of Tartarus, and she wove lies and intrigues and convinced her nephews and nieces to betray their own parents for sake of cousins they never knew, and she almost didn’t cry as she gave birth to Poseidon, and when she bore her last child earlier than she told  Cronus she would she didn’t shed a tear but shed this small, still pure thing in her arms and like mother feeding infants her milk she forced her last son to swallow her anger and hatred and pain and told _him ‘’Cronus is source of all your misery, he did this to me and you and us all, you must defeat him and free your five siblings’’_ before she sent her newborn revenge to Gaia, Gaia who didn’t love or care and...and..

And she was mother but she failed, and she traveled world helping others take care of children because she couldn’t care for her own, and she dreamed they would love her but she knew she didn’t have right on it, that she deserved only hatred, and perhaps she could atone and help others and maybe, maybe it would be enough and they could be true family once again, because Hestia was so kind and Demeter so strong with such clever, exceptional daughter, and Hera so regal and everything she couldn’t be and Haides was powerful and feared and responsible and hid his loneliness well and deserved every good and she cried of joy when he told her about his marriage and Poseidon was so joyful and stubborn and  unbending and carefree and Amphitrite was careful and cunning and loving and patient and smart and Persephone grew up so fast and beautiful and what did she do to deserve such perfect descendants and no it had nothing to do with her no it was all them and and...

And tears slid down her shapeless cheeks full of echoes as she said.

‘’Yes. Yes. Thousand times yes, of course, you two are perfect.’’ And Persephone smiled and then threw away all of her dignity and hugged her family.

* * *

 

Their wedding is great, attended by dead and daimones and all gods who can come. They dance on dark, wide plains of flowers and grass and life and jewels and precious metals and bones, and Underworld sings at ceremony as Hecate laughs and drinks with her rulers and friends and Hermes brings gifts from Her father and aunt-stepmother and grandmother and this is what perfection looks like, She thinks as Hecate holds Her veils and Thantos and Keres bring her ornaments.

(‘’She made quite the something.’’ Artemis says, dancing and laughing as She watches Her twin, her brother, Her other half.

‘’Told you there is quite lot of iron beneath all that flowers and innocence. Pay  now.’’ Apollo laughs as His sister scatters  acorns and scales over him, their latest ‘’currency’’.)

And Persephone laughs, and rules, and without meaning to, reaches for pomegranate, and nobody is there to warn her.

* * *

 

Above, Demeter braids Her hair, her eyes grim and empty of even tears, and before rage overtakes Her bony, scowling face, puts on dark robe and black, tattered scowl, and takes her adamant scythe, same Her father used to fight and harm Sky itself, and in Her hand gold _rusts_ and turns black,  for she has better tasks than reaping now.

Beneath Her, world burns and freezes and starves.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interesting bit of trivia I found while reading some myths: Zeus was really good friend with Hecate and Styx, which is why they got power and position they had. Also, in some parts of Greece it was believed that Hera was his seventh wife, Metis being first and Leto sixth. Which if true (for given value of true) really seems to point that those two are staying together because they love each other.  
> Writing Rhea was my favorite part of this chapter.  
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it, please comment.


	3. As it withers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demeter searches, and learns. And world burns and freezes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is final chapter! Hope you all like it thanks for reading and please comment.

"My Lady." Chestnut-on-wind says, dark head bowed low, green hair hiding her brown, pupilless eyes. She is shaking like blade of grass during typhoon as she watches her Lady.

Lady Demeter isn't as beautiful and sublime and terrible as Queen Hera, who brings them all to knees with one glance of Her cow-like eyes. But She is neither simple and small and smiling like Lady Hestia. She is of weathered face and deep wrinkles and clay stained fingers, but She is as giant as mountains and Her hair is gold that scorches sight and Her eyes and robes contain vernal green of spring meadows and crisp dying leaves of autumn. Her form, strong as roots of ancient trees, strong as bones of mountains, is bursting with subtle but barely contained power, like hundred million buds waiting to bloom.

''Yes, Chestnut-of-wind? Is there some problem?'' Lady Demter asks with small, motherly smile, chubby cheeks rosy and shining, as grass sways under her and nuts grow in nymph's hair.

''My Lady...it is... we are so sorry, we don't know how... My Lady'' nymph gasps and shakes as she speaks, refusing to meet goddess's eyes, voice like parasite bug crawling under core of her tree,'' My Lady...young lady...Your daughter...''.

She doesn't get to speak anymore, as Demeter's eyes snap and spring open with sound of an ancient trunk being torn in two, and noise like thousand forests breaking and swaying under hurricane as force rips through her mind, like an axe chopping through wood, power as painful as thorns and venom searing through nymph's essence, taking what Demeter wants and needs to know from depths of her mind, twisting her soul as She digs and digs and when she reaches it....

The palace shakes as Demeter roars, and Kore's attendants fall down like crushed flowers as her green, green power washes over them

* * *

Demeter runs, flies, sweeps over Earth, staring beyond mountains and seas, searching high and low, searching, searching for Her most precious treasure.

Her child is young and sweet and innocent and perfect, but raised in soft and peaceful world, and so easily harmed, and Demeter must protect _Kore, must protect Kore as She Herself has never been protected (She still remembers, remembers Rhea holding Her and saying ''My sweet, my dear, my love..'' and then Kronus comes and tears Her and consumes her and they are gods, they cannot die, they have no true body-he absorbs Her weaves her existence and power in his own and soon there are five siblings and none of Them are sure where one begins and another ends_ ), She must keep her safe and happy forever, She is failure and horrible mother, no, no, no...

She doesn't have time to think, to stop, to dream or eat or anything else, not even time to attend her duties because how can She care about something as miserable and meaningless as universe when She has daughter to find, and beneath her life withers and starves.

* * *

Here is thing about the world- it is layered.

There are so many parts, so different from each other and yet so similar, blending  with each other yet being so defined and isolated. And what is true in one layer may not be so in other.

Men live in first, weakest, top layer. Gods live at bottom, in the last, deepest one. Relationship between those two is such as of shadow and true form. Mortal realm is but a pale, fragile, weak shadow to home of gods, that contains essence and true nature of existence. There gods work, and reality as humans see it continues to be.

In human's world, Earth turns around Sun, and day and night come to pass. But at bottom, in truth, Helios drives his chariot, and light comes on Earth. And were he to stop, it would not matter that Earth still turns, for light and warmth would not shine upon men.

What do you think happens, when goddess of fields, of plants and harvest and food abandons her duties?

* * *

 

''Where are all these dead coming from?''

''I don't know, from living world, I guess? Maybe?''

''No, Hecate, I meant...Just forget it, please.''

''Yes my Queen.''

* * *

 

Demeter ravages over world, over all of it's layers, not noticing as woods turn brown and drab and dead and into dust (She wouldn't have cared either way). She sweeps over it, screaming crying, until every living thing is bursting, blood leaking from brain burned by love and memories of _Kore, Kore, Kore._

And it is then that Helios, Titan born, god of Sun, he who is all seeing shines upon Her, bound and called by her pain and fear, and descends white hot to speak to Her.  He speaks, with his burning, golden spirit, and she Sees and knows what happened.

Helios retreats, stunned and terrified, as Demeter grows taller than towers and mountains, tall enough to pierce sky,as Her feet turn in roots that crack earth and sink down, down, and screams **''Fourth!!!!''**

 

* * *

 

How dare He? How dare He? How dare He?

He is Her brother, friend, war comrade. How could he kidnap Her daughter, take her sweet, poor Kore, steal her like those brutish soldiers of Kronus did to poor young men and women during war, just come and manhandle her in His chariot as if she was sack of potatoes for Him to steal whenever He wanted?

She didn't believe stories men said about Her brother, She knew Him, had been Him there, inside Kronus, knew that for all his grim duty Haides was just doing that, a duty, that men unreasonably fear and simplify everything. But now after what He did, what he would do to Her daughter (She has no idea and She doesn't want to even think of that) all love twists in horrible, black, putrid hatred, and with rage She departs for Olympus.

In center of his power, surrounded by trillions of his servants, even Demeter would fall.

Thankfully, Kore has father too, and He was always weak on His children.

* * *

 

Hera loves Her family. Truly, She does.

But often she thinks that main reason She married Zeus is because He is only person in their whole family that understands obviously advanced concepts of  ''procedure'' ''professional behavior'' and ''no nepotism'', which is why she is currently stuck holding Demeter from entering Olympus and wrecking everything in Her path and She truly, truly loves Her sister but is considering fact that Her whole family would have taken Her more seriously if She started threatening them at sword point earlier (Zeus being exception, as He takes Her seriously in all matters but fidelity).

''Demeter,'' Hera speaks, and Her sister stops and shakes little, even though Hera is younger than Her and wears tiny, thin form. ''I understand that you have some important matter to discuss with Zeus, but you should have  had Iris or Hermes carry message so we could arrange meeting. You cannot just burst in whenever you want. There is an entire process that exists for benefit of all..''

''Fuck your procedures!'' Demeter roars, sound that of roots tearing down rock, in Hera's impassive, regal, beautiful face, which is carved out of marble.'' That bastard took my daughter and  I will see he pays for that.'' Her voice is venom that causes ivy to curl around columns and pillars, and in Hera's mind sears dark, iron hard imprint of Haides's presence.

_He didn't send message to Demeter?_ That was-that was insane, you had to inform both parents, in case they weren't sick like Kronus, but Haides never cared much for proper behavior nor was He that good at it and Hera hopes He drowns in work because so many mortals are dying already because Demeter hasn't been doing Her duty and it is miracle She manages to keep calm face as Zeus calls Demeter in his chambers.

Sometimes it surprises Her how patient and understanding He is with Their siblings, despite not growing up with Them ( _being Them_ ). But then She remembers He doesn't know them like She does and everything makes so much sense.

_He may be  hopeless, disgustingly unfaithful seducer, but thank Fates I married him. He is only other sane one in this madhouse beside Hestia._

* * *

They fight, two of them. Demeter isn't as powerful as Zeus, not in least, but she still stands and continues, and it is admirable even if Zeus isn't trying to harm her.

They shed their limiting, corporeal forms, and fight, power against power, ruler against ruler, god against god. they fight, and speak, in way of mind and heart and understanding. Zeus knows Her rage, Her fear, Her betrayal, and Demeter knows His reasoning, His belief, His love for His daughter and brother. They are siblings, friends, war comrades, former lovers, parents of child They both love, and such fights are most terrible of them all, and even more for confusion that started it all, and universe groans and cries under wight of their fight, and Chaos comes closer and closer...

''Cease this nonsense at once, please.'' Hera's voice, sharp and cold as sword cuts through air, and they are separated and forced to adopt their mortal-like forms and thrown to floor and knees, for in the end they are all family and family is Hera's to rule over

'' I won't let this stand.  I don't care what You think he has done. You will help me, or You will regret it.'' Demeter spits out, and all trees on world warp and tear and rot.

''Haides won't harm her, He isn't like that. And even if He tried He wouldn't succeed. She is much stronger than you realize.'' Zeus's voice is soft, quiet and cold, as he calmly stands and watches over furious Demeter, with His body as black as outer space, robes as blue as lighting, hair as white as clouds. She opens Her mouth and prepares to scream, but Hera raises her eyes, clear and piercing as freshly polished blade, and before She knows what She is doing Demeter is  bowing and scraping and fleeing terrified.

''Can you give me three reasons for why don't we just throw them all in Tartarus if they can't even attend their duties and keep world in order ?'' Hera mutters, already planning on organizing minor gods and nymphs and spirits to properly feed mortal population.

''They are family, they are nice and they help us when we need them to?'' After all aeons they have spent together, Hera  still isn't sure whether such optimistic view is awe-worthy and admirable or laughable and idiotic. But she knows that more and more she sees benefits of abandoning things like responsible, reasonable ruling and just start with tyranny.

* * *

The Summer and Winter are born, and they are born in hunger and death.

Demeter walks, flies, sweeps over world with her scythe and her cloak, darker than that of Thanatos. Beneath her flame and ice consume world, as soil turns to magma or hardest stone, as air ignites or freezes so cold it hurts to breathe, as seas boil and turn to ice, as billions cry out for mercy and burn or freeze seconds later.

If Her daughter isn't free or safe, then Haides can have entire world. Kore is worth that.

* * *

The gates of Underworld fall down.

 Now, see, there are gates, and there are the  _gates_. First are big doors somebody put up to show off. Second are borders of realms, holes in reality, entrances and laws written in very fabric of universe.

And they fall, squashed like bugs.

Underworld isn't aware, or sentient in way men or even most gods would understand. But it does have some sort of mind, even if it is barely formed urge.

_Intruder!_ it says.

_How dare you!_

_We will crush you, break you, end you!_

The power sears through it, let out with as much thought given as men give to blinking, bright and cold and silver and gold and white and bronze, sharp and hard, searing through essence of Underworld, biting at heart of it's every inhabitant, causing palaces to shake and gods, from smallest daimon to Haides himself to fall down, clutching their heads.

_We are sorry! We are sorry! We are sorry!_

The pain stops, but memory is still fresh and strong.

_Forgive us, Your Majesty. We didn't know, we would have never dared..._ Underworld whimpers (it belongs to Haides, and reveals it's urges only to Him, and yet now it speaks, speaks and begs out of fear).

The Queen of Olympus, goddess of rulers and families, protector of women and children, white armed and cow eyes, wife of Zeus, mistress of gods nods and continues on Her way.

* * *

 

Violence, Hera knows, is despicable trait in ruler. Ruler exists to protect and guard their people, and if they ever put themselves before ones who swore them loyalty they are not fit to hold throne anymore. Ruler's work is thing of patience, of diplomacy and duty and using mind to find best solution, something Kronus never understood (she did, she always did, since moment Rhea took her in arms and said _My princess, so beautiful, so smart, I will keep you, I will not let him take you_ and she broke that promise but in deepest darkest moments of Their captivity Her role, Her duty, Her purpose burned bright and clear and always individual  because She was princess of Titans and one day She would be queen and Her people needed Her). And Underworld is part of Her kingdom too.

But desperate times call for desperate actions, and only thing more desperate that Demeter's rampage is another Titanomachy, and as She doesn't have time nor means to chase Her mad sister She will have to make do with stepdaughter-niece who is source of whole mess and brother who caused it all because He ''forgot'' to tell His sister He was marrying Her daughter.

It is brutal, and will cause much damage (which She will help fix later) but in Underworld nobody dies, whether because they already did or couldn't in first place.

But up there on surface? Millions are being lost each second, and Queen won't stand for that.

* * *

 Cerberus leaps, child of Typhon and Echidna, descendant of Gaia and Tartarus, his three great maws roaring, his tail, a giant, muscled serpent furiously hissing, snakes protruding from his body, hungry, wrathful. It is more than his monstrous shape- terror is part of his very being, a nightmare made flesh, guardian who cannot be passed for all quiver before him, wild madness of Tartarus and heavy hunger of Gaia tearing smaller creatures before him to frayed pieces.

Cerberus is good boy, guardian, friend and family and most loyal servant. He will not falter, he will serve his masters owners friends, he will stand against whoever dares attack his home, he will protect Underworld no matter what. He propels himself and jumps on intruder-he notices too late who is tiny figure coming up to him, too late to run away no matter how much he tries.

Hera's eyes, sharp and cold and unbreakable, tear through Cerberus's soul, and he is left, crying and quivering on floor.

* * *

 Ghosts kneel, awe tearing their reason to pieces as they fall down, bowing before Queen of Gods, begging to kiss Her skirts. She watches as they part for Her, and offers each a smile and reassuring word.

The water of Styx frothed and churned, twisting in mad whirlpools as Hera approached. Oceanide rose from depths, grey and black and pale and slight but powerful, and yet shivering-she was strong in her own right, and friend of Zeus, but Hera was Queen.

''Your Majesty,'' Oceanide said, shivering and shaking, ''I can't, I-'' Hera flicked Her wrist and Styx was sent flying in wall, and water of river split to let Her pass-whether by Hera's own power or because Styx was afraid of what would happen otherwise (rivers of Underworld, move for nobody, not Haides or Persephone, not Charon or Hecate, not Thanatos or Keres, not for even Erebus or Nyx.

 But Hera wasn't nobody).

Before stepping forward, Hera gestured to dead, to poor and lost and forgotten and unknowing, who didn't have time or knowledge or means or family to bury them with coin to give Charon for passage (few feared wrath of Haides, and then swiftly decided that if Queen Hera said it He didn't have any right to give them trouble for not following his laws).

* * *

 

Underworld groaned and creaked, shaking and crying and whispering, and Haides and Persephone could feel it's fear and pain and confusion breaking them.

Underworld was used to not caring for business of either men or gods, living or dead. It was used to being most feared and hated place, where none dared draw breath too loud or disobey what it demanded. It was used to being nicely asked by it's beloved rulers to do something, and indulging their requests on whim.

It wasn't used to obeying. It wasn't used to being challenged.

And it wasn't used to being afraid.

* * *

 

 Erinyes fly, fly from Erebus, with fury and vengeance. They are more ancient than any Olympian, born from Protogenoi themselves,creatures who visit their wrath on both men and gods. their judgement cannot be escaped, their vengeance cannot be stopped, their hunt cannot be avoided.

And yet, they are still family.

Dead silently walk and stare as Erinyes snivel on floor as Hera steps over their bodies, golden ichor shining brighter than Sun in darkness of Underworld.

* * *

 

 Haides would be sure that he could take on any of His siblings (besides Zeus) in heart of His power, with his army, were it come to that, any other day.

Any other day, Haides would have sworn  that Styx doesn't part for anybody, that it is impossible for one god to take on most of His guardians, and that Underworld would never abandon Them, nor that it could be traumatized.

But if any could pull it off, it would of course be Hera. Haides remembers His captivity, remembers how Hera was always proud and defiant and spoke of thrones and empires, too powerful and driven to be so absorbed like rest of them and He thought her foolish while he seethed in his silent anger (as he remembered crying Rhea holding him and saying _I love you, my heart, I'm sorry, I will try, I won't let him take you_ ) and it took him so long to realize it wasn't delusion or hope, that Hera would force world to obey and give Her what was Her right and duty.

He remembers how They were released, floating and stumbling and unsure, but Hera walked out sure and bright and beautiful and radiant and proud and terrible, and demanded with grace and regality that Titans bow to her (how could Zeus not fall in love then, fallen and thrown to floor, drowned in kronus's blood and spit and vomit and other things, seeing Her so majestic and powerful and confident).

Even this far, he could feel her rage, her drive, as grand and violent like hurricane, a slow but powerful storm that could not be escaped, that would cover skies and drown world and scorch earth until everything was broken and torn apart and screaming and kneeling before Her.

The walls of His throne room are torn apart, like fallen leaves during thundergale, and Haides takes step forward as furious power tears like razor across surface of His being, and there She is, small and white and strong like marble rock, shining like most precious metals, sharp and cold like blade kept under ice, hundred million dead crowding around her in wonder they don't display even to Persephone.

Thanatos and Keres, ever loyal, spring to his defense, flying towards Hera with intent to tear and reap and smother to dust, and Haides cannot watch because they are His friends and subjects but Hera is His sister and oldest friend and he is not sure what would happen, because Thanatos and Keres are faces of death and death is unstoppable but Hera is immortal, and Hera is goddess of family but familial bonds can be twisted and abused and broken and....

Hera spreads her white hands, dead protected beyond silver shield  of power, and raises her eyes to face His attendants, and Death falls down screaming.

Haides watches, watches as Thanatos and Keres fall and cry and spasm, watches as thousand daimones are extinguished, watches as Underworld screams in pain, watches as Hera shines and emits painfully bright thunderbolt from Her body, watches as lighting tears through space, drawing nearer and nearer and all His power isn't enough to keep it away...

Watches as Persephone appears in front of him, dark and green light around Her, holding His hand, as their power unites and twists around them in shield, as lighting smashes in it and cannot go forward anymore, and two of Them scream, unharmed but exhausted, and fall before Hera.

''And this, dear brother, is why we have procedures. I apologize for inconvenience to your realm,'' Haides hears authority, hierarchy in her voice, and is reminded of fact that He may be a Lord, but to Her he is still a subject ''but I am afraid this problem you are partly cause of will have dire consequences on your domain too.''

''What problem?'' Kore-no, Persephone- asks, staring at Hera who doesn't so much as raise eyebrow.

''You didn't tell your wife what you have done? Or haven't, better said?'' And then She does, reaching out for their minds and showing them what happens above.

''How could you?'' Persephone is first to react, shouting at her husband and thorns emerge from walls as she speaks.

''While I understand it is important to have discussion about this...incident, please refrain from it before you deal with problem of Demeter. Persephone, if you could go talk sense in her now that would be amazing. Any questions.''

''Since when can You use master thunderbolts?'' It flies out of Haides's mouth and Hera sweetly smiles.

''Since when can Persephone command Underworld? We are married brother dear, and marriage is built on sharing. Anything else?''

''Yes.'' Persephone says, her eyes hard as iron. ''Do You plan on doing things like this often? Because I won't allow it. We won't allow it.'' Persephone's power is wasted, but She has stopped lighting.

''Not really.'' Hera smiles with approval, looking at young girl who recently became queen.

''Good. Because next time You harm our subjects We will stop you.'' Persephone is young and new, but one day She will be old and strong, strong enough to challenger and harm Hera.

''Of course.'' Hera says, still smiling with approval, because that is proper rulership, and turns to exit Their palaces (and Persephone knows that She hasn't seen true harm come to Her people, that one day She may be able to strike and tear Hera apart, but at end of that fight, any fight, She would be one broken and smashed and kneeling before Hera, for there are queens and there are **the Queens** ). Dead stare, hesitant and confused, before gods. Hera speaks as She passes through ruined doors.

''Oh, and concerning these souls-you **will** judge and sort them now. No need to put waiting off for century.''

 


	4. As it heals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family talks, compromise is reaches and cycle of nature is changed. Just as it always happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it it is, the final chapter.
> 
> First, thing I want to say about gods, or Theoi as pantheon is commonly called. I'm not religious, but I have read a lot and went through phase of questioning my beliefs, and have some opinions on how any religion should be portrayed.
> 
> When I write about gods, I tend to separate it into what I call religious or scholarly writing, and fictional or artistic writing. Those are terms I use for how I approach idea of gods, entirely my own (bear in mind this is how I think, personal view shaped by my experiences with Christianity, Islam and Hellenic polytheism, and your beliefs probably are extremely different than mine, and that is completely valid).
> 
> First, religious one is generally my view on gods if They happen to exist, and how I write about Them when They are referenced in my stories. I believe that gods are too vast and great for us to comprehend, appearing in number of guises, having different aspects and approaches and maybe even relationships and personalities in some hand as their followers require. I believe They are incredibly wise and above humans in all aspects, and that it isn't our place to judge Them at all, and that They are always right.
> 
> Second, artistic view is one for stories like this, where They are main characters. Here I make Them more approachable, easier to understand, Their darker and bloodier shown as clearer flaws. Here I write Them more obviously as similar to people-because They are, but in such different, different way. I downplay their inhuman qualities, and I don't believe my stories to be accurate at all, because I see myths as attempts of humans to describe Them, coloured by our own experiences.

The men starve as world burns and freezes.

With one wave of hand, rivers evaporate, crops combust and mountains melt. With other wave, seas turn to ice, snow buries cities and frost overtakes fields.

Demeter flies over world,great enough to cup Earth in Her hand and crush it. Her form is terrible and monstrous, a wraith barely held together, muted, horrible shape of misery and death hanging over skies, wielding Her father's scythe, Her wrath piercing Earth and sky equally, life burning bright and cold beneath Her eyes, Her screams blizzards and heatwaves, Her tears rain of fire and snow, Her footsteps eruptions of volcanoes and movements of glaciers.

Gods are powerful, but gods are bound. Bound by their natures, their duties, their destinies. Humans, small and weak and unimportant in grander scheme of things can pretend they have freedom, can change something, but gods are all too aware of their fate-no matter how hard they try, they cannot resist it anymore than ant can. In that they are similar to mortals, difference being men do not get prophecies delivered so often- and in not such high stakes.

Their father tried to resist fate, and They suffered it, and it didn't matter that Rhea whispered to her _My dear, I love, love you so much_ , because She was eaten and consumed by their mad father and when She was freed it was to fight in a mad war, and then to work and work and work without rest, without end, because without Demeter there will be no harvest, no food, and does anybody realize how many plants there are, how many lives exist because of Her, and why should She care about them, tiny things that turn to dust so easily and that exist only because She pours her power and time and will into their being?

She remembers birth of Kore, moment She looked at tiny, new, amazing spirit She gave birth to, child whose smile became center of Her world, who made everything worth. For Kore's sake She would make this world beautiful.

And now Kore is gone, trapped in dark, dead Underworld, by Her own brother, and Demeter thinks if Kore isn't there, if Kore isn't happy and free why should She care about anything else, why should She let those parasites continue chaining Her existence-fate never said anything about _that_.

If Haides took Kore, then he can have rest of the world too.

* * *

 

The Underworld is in chaos, and it falls on Hecate to fix it.

Which tells you enough about horrible state it is in. 

It's not that Hecate is trickster quite like Lord Hermes. She isn't one for lying and debauching and stealing and breaking vases and countries without care for giggles. But she is one who tactfully pokes at Lord Haides ( He needs it, because even Hecate has to admit so much brooding and grimness isn't healthy for anybody-not Him, and certainly not the world. Gloomy god kings rarely turn out well.)

(Even Kronus didn't start out so bad.)

Perhaps she could move out. They have got crossroads on Olympus too, and  necromancers are all in living world anyway, and there are witches beneath sea too. This is way, way outside of both her duties and more importantly, her temperament.

She is one who tricks and challenges Lady Persephone, one who sends nymphs and daimones on stupid tasks, one who scares ghosts and only sometimes unleashes them on living world. Kind of easy, annoying mischief you get up in breaks between exhausting, back breaking duies.

She shouldn't be one to calm Lord Haides as He rages and shakes foundations of His palace.

She shouldn't be one reassuring inhabitants of kingdom of dead that no, they haven't broken some law that will have Queen Hera hunt them all down and throw their souls to Chaos.

(Yet. One bad side to Zeus and Hera's reign, in midst of all order and rules and mercy They introduced was that they were, well, rules. And while they protected you from being squished because somebody felt like that, just as they prevented disruption of natural order-the fire burns instead of creating ice kind- was that they greatly limited brawls, fights and fun. You had to be very, very careful how you appllied your powers and to refrain from terrorizing whoever annoyed you.

Another was that They were married. Hecate knew Zeus, could call Him something like friend, back when He was just a boy not much older than her, leading seemingly hopeless fight against Kronus who struck down sky itself. Nervous, worried boy, who still fought like madman, who organized them all in army that actually worked and inspired His warriors to go on. And she knew Him now, as wise and unflappable King, untouchable and dignified, quiet and powerful and invincible.

And she knew Hera, Hera who walked among mud and dirt and demons with glory and pride that put Kronus to shame, Hera who burned and planned and demanded world to bow because that was Her birthright, they bowed and She kept them safe, and Hecate is sure only reason Hera isn't goddess of war is because She understood that general can issue commands only in battle while mother can do it whenever She wants, and she knew Hera as regal and untouchable Queen, kind and caring but so stern and powerful...

When news of Their marriage reached Underworld, Hecate understood how humans felt when they had a stroke. Haides was left vacantly staring at empty air with open mouth, Keres and Thanatos fainted while most of Underworld run around, exception being Titans who screamed and Tartarus and Erebus, which, Hecate swears on river Styx,  _shuddered_.

Said news marked end of era where anything could be done outside of proper conduit and rules. No more continent breaking and galaxy rearranging on whim. Hecate didn't like it but Hecate kept her mouth shut because she saw point and because of  _oh sweet Mother Gaia they are together now they will both smite me and Zeus may become even stricter and oh fuck what if Hera gets thunderbolts too..._ )

 And she shouldn't be one to fight way through hedge Lady Persephone erected to prevent Her husband from reaching Her, and she surely shouldn't be one to try to play marriage counselor to those two thick headed, easily angered, really sweet, great friends she got and..

Friends?

What the... How... When...

Well, guess there is no moving out now. Hecate continues traveling through briars, commanding paths to reveal themselves to her, burning plants away with all force she can muster, getting rid of and putting on twenty cloaks and her robes as she passes through different areas- Demeter's newest creation, summer and winter, have taken hold of Underworld too (they were good with just spring and autumn, no need to throw in whole seasons dedicated to roasting and freezing, but that's what you get when you provoke one of top Olympians in insane rampage after losing thing She cares most for).

''There you are. He sent you to bring Me back didn't He?'' Persephone forms out of leaves, skin green and sickly, horns broken, robes that of wilted flowers.

''No. I came on my own.'' Persephone looks at her and past her and Hecate dares get closer. Persephone isn't bright, fragrant creature She was when She came down here first. She is still beautiful, but it is beauty of rose that passed it's bloom, of tree holding on last remnants of life before it rots away, all washed out colors and murky shapes and wasted, tired face.

''You would, wouldn't you.'' Persephone smiles and small, soft flowers bloom. '' But still I'm not going back. not after what happened.'' She is talking to vines Hecate realizes.

''My Lady, I know...'' she starts before Persephone roars and kicks dirt with Her hooves, roaring. ''He didn't tell Her! He brought Me here and I thought why didn't She come to visit, surely He sent escort to show Her way, why didn't She send congratulation! And He didn't tell Her, He brought me here and My mother didn't come, didn't know! She is so scared and panicked and I"m _here_.''

''I thought You liked it. Liked us.'' Hecate says, quiet, as world becomes silent and dusty.

''I do. I love it. It is beautiful and big and everybody is so nice and it is stunning and I rule but...but...''  the vines shift and writhe and curl and rot. ''But here is no light and no forests and everything is dead and nothing is sweet or soft and I miss her, I thought it was ungrateful to Him and that She didn't deserve it if She didn't even send good wishes, but I miss Her food and singing and smile and I like it here but I like it there too...'' Tears from Persephone's thirteen eyes look like swamp dew.

''Hermes came to get Me and stop Her but I.. I couldn't, I didn't know didn't understand....It was six seeds, six pomegranate seeds and I...'' Hecate stares as her Lady wraps six arms around herself, as hedge around them grows and becomes trunks to protect her and hugs her Lady, her Mistress, her Friend.

''I will help you. I will, I will, I will.''

They hug and cry and make promises.

* * *

 

Rhea flies over world, over Earth, over her mother.

Demeter is too fast and yet too smart and too powerful  and too careful to catch. Zeus and Hera are too busy trying to organize teams to help mortals,   too busy making shelters and helping nymphs and satyrs and planning how to help humans and listening to complaints of other gods, and Hera is too busy keeping Olympus safe (if Olympus falls they all go down with it) and Zeus is too busy keeping her parents from sending life in oblivion to destroy Demeter, because They are sky and air and space, They are earth and planet and universe, they are Protogenoi and they don't know love or loyalty or anything else, Ouranos fears and strikes down new things and Gaia plots and destroys whatever upsets natural world, and Demeter is too important to be imprisoned, and She has grown fat and great from blood (sacrifices are small sources of power, negligible even on greatest day. But billions upon billions of lives ended by Demeter's own hand-there is power in that, bloody and great and horrible, and power is power Kronus always sued to say, no matter how it is gained) and in the end They are siblings, They cannot truly strike Her, Hera has grown with Her in Kronus and Zeus has been born to save Her.

And Rhea flies, for she knows she cannot stand on sidelines anymore, knows she must help ones who were once her subjects, knows she must help her daughter.

She bore Them, and yet They aren't truly her children. Is that their own nature or is that because of centuries, millenias, eons spent in Kronus, she doesn't know, but in truth They are his offspring, his children more then they are hers-there are only traces of her, while there are entire aspects of him in Them.

Hestia has his love, worry, loyalty for family. Haides has his temperament, his mood, his grimness. Poseidon has his laugh, his joy, his passion. Hera has his pride, his bearing, his authority.

And Demeter has his rage, his violence, his fighting spirit, and Rhea, who has witnessed and been on receiving end of it so many times and calmed it and tried to heal it is only one who can truly help now, even as she sees her husband's face in her daughter's, even as she remembers none of them are her children.

(Not even Zeus, Zeus who is only one truly of her, Zeus who may hold Kronus's throne but doesn't have anything of his spirit-is it because she bore him from her will, or because she clawed and ripped away every piece of Kronus's spirit from moment Zeus was conceived, not out of rare, twisted, bent moments of  love and pleasure like His siblings, but out of Her designs, out of her rage, because she laid down with her husband in moment of pure hatred to give prophecy what it needed, or maybe it was because she spoke to Him of duty and hatred and poison since before he was born while she spoke of her joy and love and pride to others, or maybe Gaia twisted and broke him with Her will.

She didn't let Kronus eat Zeus because fate, prophecy didn't allow it, but she made Him tool, threw Him away, did nothing as Kronus hit and held him down as he did to all servants and cupbearers, she walked over and murdered any dream He might have in order to fulfill her revenge, because she wasn't strong enough to fight back on her own so she forced Him to be strong to fight her battle, her war, her revenge.)

And she finds Her, and gasps, because for moment she sees her husband, her brother, her Kronus, same as he was when he faced their father. Her sword-scythe-atrocity She wields, a weapon crafted by Gaia, thing of sharpness and destruction and pain barely holding onto specific shape, Her screams that are louder than thunder, each of Her movements, pain and rage and panic that penetrate air and tear through Rhea like spear, destruction and havoc She brings about, Her reign over agriculture- everything makes Her seem so, so much like Kronus, that for moment Rhea stops as world is covered by black ash and white snow.

Kronus, her brother, her husband, her friend and love, one who gave them all comfort while they were buried in Gaia's bowels, below dirt and stone, below form and shape, embedded deep in fabric of world, of their Mother, Gaia of wide bosom, ever-sure foundation of all, a force of nature, aspect of universe, first to crawl out of Chaos, before Night and Darkness, before Eros and Tartarus, before any, there was just Earth, Earth, a crushing elemental power stronger and more horrible than even Pit, Gaia who left them alone until they were strong enough to be Her hands, ones who will harm Her son, Her enemy, Her mate, Her sky, and Kronus freed them and they saw how beautiful word is, and she was just joyful giggly girl who was scared again when he started screaming and terrorizing and hitting and she again couldn't do anything, nothing, just watch...

But she isn't scared, not as Demeter screams and tears world apart with magma and ice, for she is older and wiser now (even if she still feels so small and helpless so often) and Demeter isn't like him, she is good, and Rhea walks through fire and cold towards her daughter.

''Mother.'' Demeter says, fire becoming bright as solar light, ice shining stronger then diamonds, and Rhea feels guilt pierce her because she doesn't truly deserve that tile, doesn't deserve to be called mother goddess,but she must pay now, she must repent, she must be here for Her now.

Rhea opens her arms wide, and looks at Her daughter, and says _Please come. Please stop._ and she shows her everything, all mothers and children lost to flame and frost and famine, and Demeter collapses and runs towards her with _his_ black (once golden) scythe, and Rhea doesn't move even as she sees him, sees how he runs towards her as he...

And Demeter surrounds her, surrounds her and cries, because She understands, She knows now what it means to lose child to family, to brother, to one you trusted, to one you shared existence with inside parent even if you were already born, and cries and cries in Rhea's arms as Rhea coos and sings and lulls.

* * *

The storms have calmed a bit but Hecate still has to hob across bloody snow to find Lady Demeter, and for all she loves Haides, she burns with anger at foolish thing he did, angering one of his siblings. That is how You get wars going on. true wars, not that pasty mortal stupidness, whole using-stars-as bullets and breaking apart galaxies thing.They are lucky Demeter is just destroying mortal world, not amassing armies to storm down Underworld.

But then, it is likely because She doesn't know where entrance is located. Such information belongs only to chtonic deities, Zeus and messenger gods. And Hecate is planning on bringing Her to heart of it.

But then, with how overworked they all are, war would be pleasurable distraction. Which is likely why Demeter did this. She is smart, that's problem with Olympians. Too bloody cunning and knowing others. At least it's not Hermes or Apollo, they would have baked up some crazy scheme that would have Haides crying iron tears.

(But then all is good until you manage to anger Hestia, Hera or Zeus. Which they did partly, so Hecate feels justified at thought of bringing blood-empowered Demeter in heart of Underworld. If they survived one of those three, they can survive anything. No matter Hera wasn't truly trying.

They are most dangerous ones, those three. Craziest of all in this whole family. Ones who took a look at this mad, broken universe and though you know, We can make it work well enough for non-immortals to more or less peacefully exist. And succeeded, whether rest of Their family wanted or not.

Hecate isn't sure if they are craziest because They are maddest of whole bunch, or because They are only sane ones. She isn't in hurry to find out.)

And finally, she finds Her, alongside her aunt Rhea. Her mother Asteria always talked how Rhea was young, sweet, easily scared and impressionable girl, caught up with man she refused to see was a monster, and Hecate remembers seeing her like that, and she remembers fact Rhea convinced Kronus a rock was baby (there is difference between rock in diapers and baby transformed in shape of rock, which is rather easy for gods to spot, but not mortals, which is why that part confuses them so much, and anyway Hecate thinks it isn't so weird given shapes some of her uncles take) and how she managed to spread Olympian revolutionary propaganda right under Kronus's nose, and that rhea was one who recruited Hecate and rest of her cousins in Zeus's army (exception being Styx who was convinced to run away from home screaming ''Live the revolution! Titans on knees! Down with the King!'' after one talk with Zeus, and Hecate is sure Zeus wasn't one to think up those slogans but still) and Hecate may have been one of first to join but honestly she still isn't sure if it was her will or if Rhea convinced her somehow supernaturally and anyway Hecate is pretty sure Rhea could make her believe she is the duck, completely with quacking.

And in midst of her rambling thought she realizes both of them are watching her.

''Errr. Greeting and glory to You, Lady Demeter, Lady of Olympus, sister of Rulers, Mistress of all that growws and greetings you, Mistress Rhea, mother of mothers.'' Rhea smiles, as if she isn't mother of a King, daughter of greatest of Protogenoi, former Queen, and waves to her grand-niece. Demeter on other hand is glaring.

''You are Hecate. Cousin by Asteria and Perses, friend of Zeus,'' everybody is everybody's cousin but Hecate knows better then to mouth-off goddess Who is in process of destroying world and may or may not declare war on her home ''and servant and friend of _Haides_.''

Hecate gulps.

''Haides _and_ Persephone, my Lady. Your daughter is a queen now, and She is rather good at it.'' Demeter glares and Hecate ducks fire from sky and blizzard as Rhea restrains her daughter.

''And that's why I'm here! Your daughter is sad that You weren't able to see Her-through no fault of Yours, My Lady!- and She misses You in Your new home! She wants to see You!'' Please, please don't cut me in half.

Demeter rolls her sleeves and Hecate falls on snow because wrestling is fun sport on Olympus, Zeus being resident champion, and from what gossip she has heard Zeus doesn't have kids with you if you can't wrestle good enough, and Hecate isn't sure whether that's true or not because Zeus isn't picky but then he did marry Hera and anyway she has no intention of wrestling one of top six gods in Her place of power while She is empowered by billions of deaths by Her own hand and _oh sweet Protogenoi She has got true muscles She could break me in half I didn't sign up for this no no no..._

Rhea, may fates bless her forever more, comes to rescue.

''It is true. I saw Her in Underworld, she fought me for His hand. She is true queen. And she seemed happy.''

''Of course she is true queen. I raised her right.'' From what she has heard from Persephone, Demeter never approved of pomp and dramatics. Persephone on other hand swims in it. Hecate hopes she isn't there when They get in argument.

''Now, you are here to take Me down there, right? Well then do it.''

''Of course My Lady. there is just matter of me needing to bind your eyes, because way is secret and..... You are fucking with me.'' Hecate gasps when she sees Demeter hold out _Kronus'_ s scythe and put on thin, thin smile.

''...On other hand I think we can avoid most of this procedure.''

* * *

 

'So, She is doing right?''

''Yes, She took to ruling like fish to water.''

''Why did She rename Herself so?''

'' I think She told me Zeus gave Her that name during visit some....seven centuries ago.''

''Hmmph. She always liked dark and edgy things, and He is such enabler.''

''She blocked attack from Hera once.''

''.....You are fucking with me.''

'''No.''

'' Well, if I'm not going to mention it next time I meet sister...'' She won't. She knows better then to challenge Hera.

''She is growing a garden.''

_''In Underworld?''_

''Yes. It's going very well.''

''My girl, come so far. I got to give Her some tips.''

''She and Lord Haides either fight or kiss whole time.''

'' Good, good. Fourth needs somebody to rein him in.'' Hecate decides not to ask about nickname this time.

''I'm a big fan of some of Your works. Biggest fan.''

''Really?''

''Yes, some of those plants You made last century have amazing effects.''

''You know, I thought of branching out little. Making a line of herbs just for witchcraft purposes and for appeasing ghosts. Would you like to try them out?''

'''What? I of course-no, no that is too much, You don't need to be that charitable.''

''Please, without that. I need expert's opinion.''

''Then I'm in!''

''Great. Persephone can also have some to plant there, to bring back from visits.''

''Visits?''

''Well, you will have to come by My palace to test it out? And no word of humbleness and charity anymore, please.''

''I..thank You, My Lady.''

''Any more questions?''

''yes...One. If you allow.''

''Of course I do.''

''Can You please possible remove that scythe from my neck?''

''Hmmm...Nah. How will people know you are my hostage otherwise?''

* * *

 

''Have you heard!''

''Lady Demeter is here!''

''Oh sweet  Protogenoi, what is next? Zeus Himself coming to wreck us?''

''How did She find a way?''

''Hecate brought Her.''

''What?

''No way!''

''You are joking!''

''She would never!''

''It is truth!  saw it. Lady Demeter took her as hostage.''

''Hecate wouldn't reveal such information even then.''

''I don't know, she was always bit bitchy.''

''Never trusted her.''

''It's not a choice. Lady put Kronus's scythe around Hecate's neck and had her lead Her like a dog.''

''She did what?''

''I heard that too, are you sure it is that scythe?''

''I am. I was in war. I would recognize that cursed thing anywhere.''

''Guys, guys! Lady Demeter is here.''

''We know...''

''Hecate is Her hostage...

''...Kronus's scythe...''

''She is demanding negotiations!''

''Negotiations with lady Hecate's head on bladepoint?''

''How else?''

''She says She will let Hecate go if she is allowed to see Her daughter.''

''I heard She wants to drag queen back home.''

''Humans say she challenged Their Majesties.''

''What do they know? You can never believe humans, have you seen what they write.''

''Everybody is saying that!''

''I heard She is amassing army, that She wants to take command of death as well as life.''

''She wouldn't dare!''

''I don't know, life and death go hand in hand...''

''Are you proposing a treason?''

''Never!''

''Quiet!''

'''People! Lord Haides let Her in throne room!''

''What are They talking about?''

''I hope it isn't exchange!''

''Let it be, a queen is not worth this workload!''

''Who is treasoning now?''

''I'm just being rational...''

'' Well, I say let Her have Hecate, not much bloody good comes out of Her anyway...''

''Where is patriotism? Worker's support?''

''I'm one who has to deal with undead she creates, I could go without those aberrations.''

''Hecate is coming out!''

And truly, Hecate did come out, pale faces and bloodshot eyes, six hands waving as her voice carried through entire Underworld.

''They are going to talk it out. Run!''

There are two ways gods solve their differences. Either they open their hearts and meld minds to show each other's experiences... or they fight.

Palace rumbled as spirits run screaming.

* * *

 

Haides was on floor- he told Hecate to send His followers away, so they wouldn't be harmed, no matter how much she protested,  Underworld was still recovering from Hera's rampage (now Haides knew how humans felt in face of natural disasters) and He may have been in center of his power, but Demeter has crafted two new domains and been empowered by trillions of trillions of lives She took by her own hand, and now father's-her, her-scythe was pressed at His throat.

''Third, please...'' She pressed blade deeper, watched ichor run over ground.

''''How. dare. You...'' She snarled, glowing green-red-white, vibrant and burning and cold at same time.

''Mother!'' His wife, His queen run towards His side, green grey shade looking at Demeter.

''Kor...Persephone, I, You, are You...How?'' Persephone caught her in embrace and let Demeter see everything, everything inside Her, everything She hated and loved. Demeter wept into Her daughter's hand.

''I'm so happy to see You. I love You. But I like it here too, mother. I love Him. Even if He can be quite dumb.'' She said with glare at Her Husband. Demeter frowned, then took His hand and hit Herself in face.

''Here. Rites have been fulfilled. Now let us sort out this whole mess with pomegranate.''

* * *

 

They are on Olympus, awaiting Zeus's coming.

None of His children are with Them. Only first Six, and Their mother.

There is Hestia, young and old, first and last, sweet face wrapped by ash, flame and dirt Her robes, and Her warm smile is that of campfires They sat in circle around during Titanomachy, of candles keeping comfort in darkness, of cozy little home and joyful families. In Her Rhea sees gentle and yet strong will, and she sees Kronus as he used to be, brother caring for others, and she hears _Oh my dear, you are perfect, you everything_ that she spoke on her first birth.

There is Demeter, skin like mud and clay, wide hips and rough hands used to work, wrapped in dress alternating between forest green and black as night, Her crown of frost and flame, face frowning as rye She has for hair spills down Her back, scythe again golden, and in Her Rhea sees mother she failed to be and Her husband's rage as he struck at sky for imprisoning them, and hears  _My dear, I love, love you so much_ because she hoped  it was only once, that it was weakness, that it wouldn't repeat.

There is Haides, form of iron and shadow and diamond, almost hard to see even for divine eyes, grim and frowning as He fades in and out of sight, promise of afterlife in one hand and earthly wealth in another, and in Him Rhea sees strength she didn't have, and Kronus's dark yet caring behavior, and hears _My love, my child, you are everything, I will protect you forever_  , I will keep you safebecause she thought she could fight back this time but didn't.

There is Poseidon, skin white as foam and dark like wet, brown sand, hair black as depths of abyss and green as algae, eyes thousand shades of blue, robes wine dark and storm  grey and sunset russet and dawn golden, changing like surface of water, waves rolling in them, smiling and bursting and hugging and laughing, and in Him Rhea sees stubborn anger she never had, and Kronus's energy and laugh that got them through darkest moments of their captivity, and hears _My dear, my beloved, I love you so much, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry_ because she knew what was coming and knew she wouldn't be able to change it.

Doors open, and last of her children step through, and They are family but They all bow.

There is Hera, small compared to Them all, size of human to Their mountains, resembling statues men make of Her, all white marble and gold and silver and bronze swords, and power radiates from her, and Rhea sees queen she never was and pride and dignity Kronus always carried and hears  _My princess, so beautiful, so smart, I will keep you, I will not let him take you_ because she believed she can still change his mind.

And There is Zeus, King  of kings, Father of men and gods, greatest of them all, His power suffocating, cracking floor of palace with each steps, pent up like storm that could destroy Them all, his body blue and white shape without face or definitive form, barely filled mortal guise, blurring and changing like smoke and clouds, thunder contained within it, anf though He may hold once-his throne Rhea sees nothing of her husband, but doesn't raise face to meet him in fear of seeing her reflection, and hears  _Cronus is source of all your misery, he did this to me and you and us all, you must defeat him and free your five siblings_ because she became cold and hateful but still too cowardly to strike, to fight back.

''Mother.'' They say, voices high and royal.

'' Daughter. My King.'' She may not have right to call Hera daughter, after what she has done, after Oceanus and Tethys bonded so well with Her, but she has no right to claim Zeus as hers child, for no matter how much she hates it she started to see Him as person, not tool, not extension of her agenda only near end of war, because she sent Him to where she spent so much time trying to escape to Gaia, where sky cast them instead of Pit even though he feared them so much, Gaia who knows nothing  but natural order that must be respected, nothing but universal law that must be followed, nothing but Her own will, which crushes everything else, and Zeus hears Her voice constantly, and it is wonder He has any individuality left after eternity with Earth whispering Her will to Him, and if she bore Him to be King she will treat Him like her King.

''Let us start council.'' Zeus says, and his voice is strong and sure, and He can fool his siblings but not Her, for she is daughter of Sky and Earth, and She can sense those two forces tearing and clawing at His mind, screaming Their will, Sky afraid of this new thing, dangerous thing Demeter brought forth, Earth demanding that cycle of life and death be restored, and They won't stop, They don't know what pain is, They don't know that other beings have more then just their duties and natures, they can't realize that, they will tear Zeus apart unless he fixes what is wrong.

''We need to solve problem.'' And yet He remains strong and sure, as if nothing is wrong, as if greatest forces of nature aren't trying to break Him.

''You mean Demeter's rampage.'' Haides says, voice clashing of jewels, hiss of monster in dark.

''You mean Haides's binding of My daughter.'' Demeter answers, sound of tree breaking and ground being ripped apart coming from her mouth.

''It was accident.'' Haides speaks, shadows gathering round Him.

'' She is forever bound to Underworld.'' Demeter answers, roots breaking through floor as Hera keeps Herself from  strangling them all for ruining Their home in middle of supposedly peaceful council.

''She likes it there.'' Haides's words send dust over everything.

''You kidnapped Her.'' There is moss covering walls.

'' And paid for it until She was satisfied.'' There are cracks on table.

'' She must come home.'' Thorns grow from stone.

''Underworld is Her home-children cannot forever be with parents.'' What irony is it that They are talking about it, as smell of rot fills air.

''They cannot forever be separated from them!'' It starts to get hot, too hot.

''Í didn't harm Her.'' Iron swords manifest around him.

''World needs it's spring.'' It is cold, so cold.

''After you are finished with it, I doubt.'' Ghosts rise around him.

''Please, that would be enough. She said She wants to be with both of you, and we must find a way for it. Humans are dying because of petty fight.''  Hestia speaks, shining like candle.

'' I'm not one bringing death to them.'' Haides speaks, power trembling in air.

''I won't stop until She is free.'' Demeter's strength whirls around air.

''I cannot deny laws of Underworld.'' Haides answers, His mortal form almost shredded.

''How do I know You haven't given Her those seeds yourself?'' She asks, summer and winter swirling in hand.

It is hard to say who first attacks, Haides with barrage of knives and diamond sharp shards, cloak of shadow and army of dead, Demeter with vines and fire and frost and pure force.The Olympus shudders and shifts, straining under power, as two of Them ran to each other, Haides invisible, attacking from all sides, demeter slashing with Her unholy scythe, destroying everything in Her sight.

Rhea screams at Them, tries to stop, but she can't, she just releases force, and there is Poseidon, wielding trident, cracking earth and calling up tsunamis, and Hestia spewing magma and trying to reach in their minds and Hera reaches for Her swords because this is too much, who are They to dare harm _Her_ home and before She can scorch Them, make Them scrape and bow, She is ready, She feels pulls of power and is ready to release it, Zeus grasps her.

He falls down, scream caught in His throat, sob coming up, and it shouldn't be heard but it is, everybody in world feels it, fells shift of power that knocks out their breath and feels as if it ripped out their hearts as gaia and Ouranos advance and go and scream and will and _tear tear tear, fulfill duty, do right, restore order_  , _nature cannot be denied_ through Zeus's mind and He falls to floor, gasping, spasming, tearing at His own flesh as He cries, and Hera is at his side, holding Him and whispering.

They stop, and watch, and take step back, because it doesn't feel right, it doesn't feel as if it is allowed to, it feels like sacrilege (can god blaspheme?) as if they are thieves and fools interrupting something They don't understand, something that is holy and sacred and beautiful and not for Them, something great and private and not Theirs.

(There is bond, siblings know, bond between five of Them that Zeus is no part of, Because he doesn't understand, hasn't been captive like They were, hasn't been one with Them, and They can't know Him as brother or lover, like distant relative or fling yes but not like that, not so close and deep, and He cares for Them because He must, because He was born to save Them, because They were eaten and He was not, and He has no right to demand Their love, He cannot hope to be part of what They are.

But Hera watched from campfires a boy-general-leader-savior-King to be, prophesied end of Their father, and There were five of Them and They were so close and loved each other and yet, yet She got up and walked away and left Them behind to speak with brother She didn't know, left fire and light and comfort of eons to lie in dark and cold and loneliness with one who understood Her need, Her desire, Her ideas and knew what law and order and right had to be, and He had duty towards five of them but towards Her He had love, siblings bound like Artemis and Apollo are, war comrades general and tactician, husband and wife, and bond with Their siblings is there, still strong as ever and yet, yet Hera left it and forget new one, so shining and deep that all others pale in comparison, no matter how much He cheats and how much She orders, because He understands and She cares.

And were gods able to die, no matter love or duty, for sake of each other Hera and Zeus would slit Their family's throats and watch world burn.)

And then He roars, roars like hurricane and thunderstorms and breaks and sheds His form and rises in sky, pillar of light and power and might binding earth and sky that now whisper, he is King of Kings, greatest of gods, Father of gods and men, and world quivers before His power, men left gasping and in awe, stars and galaxies stopping in fear, His siblings and children and family thrown to floor as they scream and cry, so small and weak, so weak, gods trembling and crying, men going mad feeling His glory, His power, dead swirling and cracking, everything from amoeba to spirits bowing, bowing so low, Nyx and Erebus and Ponthus and Tartarus roaring and crawling like worms because He is King and he won't be challenged, can't be mustn't be.

(Hera is silent, arms crossed, head bowed in respect and eyes closed, for he is her king, and yet in entire universe she alone stands, calm and fearless at his side despite his might and power, for it is not for wife to kneel before Her husband,)

He takes form, same as before, but so so much more, strong and glorious and beautiful and calmly says.

''Persephone wants to fulfill both of her duties, and to see both of her families. Laws of Underworld will be respected, and Underworld will respect her wish. Six seeds she has eaten, six months she will spend there. Both of you will respect what she does. You will treat her like queen, Haides, and you Demeter will temper summer and winter and make them useful. Such is my decree.''

''Do you think Underworld will allow that?'' Haides asks, and Demeter too, crawling on earth next to him. Laws of Underworld are written in it's very being and it will fight against breaking them.

''Well,'' Hera speaks, smiling with her marble lips ''if it has any complaint it can take it up with Us. We will even skip procedure as We doubt it can write petition.'' Gleam in Her eyes would have terrified Tartarus itself.

''Now help Us clean this mess You made.''

* * *

 

She is Kore, and She is Persephone. Daughter and wife and Her own being. She rules over spring and over dead, and world turns according to Her.

She is powerful, and beautiful, and great, and terrible, and kind.

I promise you will love Her, once you meet Her. Everybody does.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For redlipstickkisses/owldork1998, my dear friend.  
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and please review!

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! Hope you enjoyed it, thanks for reading and please comment!
> 
> Fourth, about their personalities and their relationships. I believe that each god possesses flaws but also virtues that put them above men, and that their relationships are rocky but in the end, they are very loving family of overworked stressed immortals. I tried to line this up with old myths and approach of their ancient followers, and as such there isn't great rivalry between most of them (three brothers like each other, though they had some rocky instances, and their followers aren't opposed to each other-Hecate and Styx, for example,were said to be among first who joined Zeus, and he respected them much in return, and Styx has power over oaths due to Zeus's decree). As such, Hades is morbid, grim and often mean figure, but also fair, not meddling and very loving. Zeus is unfaithful and can be impulsive, but he is fair and good king (and just you know, I go by versions where he doesn't rape anybody, just seduce people, because you know), Hera can be vengeful but she is also dignified, caring queen. Their relationships can enter hard places, and they may argue, but in the end they love each other as they are all one big family (also, what is it with people constantly writing about Apollo and Artemis arguing, or shitting on one to raise other-those two adore each other, and there is myth of Artemis and her nymphs going to Apollo's shrine and dancing to his music at end of each day).
> 
> Fifth and final, my view on retellings. I believe that retellings should be faithful to source material, but also modernized, as Ancient Greeks had many ideas we would disagree with. As such, I believe in following all main elements of myths, presenting gods as very dangerous and not to be trifled with yet also as wise and worthy of respect, and I believe in concepts of hubris and fate being unavoidable, but also believe we should take closer look at some things and making them bit more fair, like giving queens of gods equal respect and responsibility as to their husbands and seeing them as rulers in their own right and not just consorts, exploring some consequences of what happens after (like idea of Titanomachy leaving very bad memories and possibly PTSD for everybody involved), giving more agency to some more minor characters and pointing out how dangerous and powerful gods can be to mortals (because they are, they are lords of nature and ideas, holding power over sea and sky and life and death and war and love, descendants of Sky and Earth and Night, they aren't humans and they are to be feared and revered), because old myths were shaped by author's society and so it stands that our writings are shaped by ours too (and also even if you take all myths as literal and gods having same beliefs as people of that age, you think they haven't changed in more than several thousand years and evolved?). Also I really hate idea of gods being sustained by belief or losing their power.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it and please comment.


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